Extraordinary
by plummet
Summary: Sometimes Fate works in the strangest ways, and Amelie is about to discover just how strange. Thrown into the mix of public high school, can she survive the drama while struggling to find herself? WarrenOC [On hiatus]
1. Mistakes and Their Repercussions

Extraordinary- **Chapter One: **Mistakes and Their Repercussions

**plummet:** Hello, fellow readers! This is the first piece of fan fiction I've posted in a long while, so I hope you like it! -salutes- The song posted below is an excerpt from _Somewhere I Belong _by Linkin Park. Alright, that basically clears everything up.

Disclaimer: I do **_not _**own anything from the movie Sky High. Not the actors/actresses, not the school, nor the plot…But I do own anything and everything you don't recognize. Heh.

(So what am I)  
What do I have but negativity  
'Cause I can't justify the way everyone is looking at me  
(Nothing to lose)  
Nothing to gain, hollow and alone  
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own…-_Somewhere I Belong; **Linkin Park**_

**_

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_**

My eyes flew open to the sound of bells tolling; mind completely haze free and refreshed. I found that I felt completely rejuvenated only after just catching a few winks. Ears straining to discern one long, droning toll of a bell from another and counting the amount, I decided that it was just as I thought: midnight.

I never really could sleep past midnight. Not now and not ever, it seemed. I don't really know why, but after waking at this hour for years, I just grew used to it and grudgingly accepted the weirdness of my bodily clock.

My arms were squashed together, and I had the sudden urge to stretch said limbs, but I found that my movement and breathing was well restricted due to a small, warm body curled up on my chest. I would recognize her small, chubby arms and soft breathing anywhere.

"Sophie…" I let her name draw out in a sigh.

Something akin to worry and kindness flashed in my eyes, as seen in the moonlight pouring through the window above my bed. Worry because I knew she must have had another bad dream, kindness because I came to think of this small slip of a girl as the little sister I never had. Living in an orphanage for many years does that to people; leads them to stick together and care for one another in their loneliness.

I sat up a bit, and Sophie stirred. Her lids fluttered open, and I found myself staring into a pair of shy, emerald eyes. She pulled herself up and off me, only to sit timidly by my side.

"Big Sissy Amelie, I'm s-sorry. I-….I had another bad dream and the monsters are a-afraid of you and I thought that it would be okay to sleep w-with you a-again 'cause you said…" She took a deep breath and continued, "'Cause you said a'fore that it was okay f-for me to s-sleep with you in your b-bed if I got real scared…"

I smiled a bit at the nickname she so cutely gave me, and the kindness shown in my eyes again. I lifted Sophie up out of her sitting position and hugged her to me. The poor kid was so frightened. I thought her nightmares had been chased away, but I guess they had a momentary lapse.

"Sshhh…" I hushed her, "It's okay, baby, you're alright."

She calmed down a bit and I put my hand under her chin so that her green eyes locked directly with my violet ones.

"The monsters aren't real, hon. They're just stuff your mind makes up when you're scared, that's all. They're not real…They're not going to get you…"

"But they seem so real…" Sophie whispered disbelievingly.

The corner of my mouth twitched into a smile once again. This little tike knew how to get the best out of me. I tucked a loose lock of red hair behind her ear as it escaped from her braid.

"I know, pumpkin, I know, but you're just going to have to trust me on this one."

I grabbed one of her hands with my now free arm and squeezed her tiny hand reassuringly.

"You know, I used to have nightmares when I was your age. In fact, I still have them now."

Sophie's eyes widened to the size of china plates, "Really? Nuh uh!"

"Yeah huh! You bet. Horrible ones, too...With big, green scary goblins and fiery dragons. But you know what?"

"What?" I had Sophie's rapt attention now. "What d'you do when you're…sc-scared."

"Well, that's simple. I just remind myself that monsters aren't real, that they're just dreams and in dreams you can't get hurt. If that doesn't work, I try to think of a way to make the dream not so scary anymore, like putting the monster in a dress."

Sophie grinned and bounced slightly on my bed. However much her excitement, it was only natural that it would fade in the mental presence of her nightmare. As the clouds blocked out the moonlight, her 'monsters' frightened away her happiness.

Her reddish brows were drawn in her indecisiveness. "Um…big sissy…?"

I frowned. "Yeah, hon? What is it?"

"W-will you sing…a song f-for me…?"

My eyes widened a fraction. Whatever I was subconsciously expecting, it certainly wasn't _that_.

"Er, Sophie? I don't think that's a goo- "

"It's 'kay, Ammie! I like it when you sing!" Sophie made sure to interrupt quickly.

I was flattered. No one had ever said they liked my singing, and even if she was only six, it meant a lot.

"…You're sure?" Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. My insecurity and I never really got along.

Surprising only to the meekest part of me, Sophie nodded her head with her light smile.

With a smile mimicking hers slightly, I began to sing.

Eventually, Sophie snuggled her head into my chest and gave a small sigh. She wrapped her arms around my waist in an embrace and lay there comfortably.

I finished on a gentle note, a small hint of untrained vibrato on the last syllable. By this time, Sophie was out like a light, and I could hear the steadiness of her breathing.

I gently pulled out of the loose hug Sophie had me in and set her in a cozier position on my bed. I rose from the bed with a creak of the springs and pulled the covers up to her chin. Exhaling deeply, I stood there, watching over her for a good while. She looked so peaceful.

Schooling my emotions with ease, I glanced out of the window. I judged by the position of the moon that it was still very early in the morning, or, very late at night. However you want to view it. Combing through my strawberry-blond hair with my fingers, I winced a bit as my fingers were halted by a rather nasty knot. In undoing said knot, I surveyed the nursery room. I was relieved to find that all the little tots were asleep and that my little conversation with Sophie had not woken them.

You see, I'm the oldest person here, being seventeen and all. Here as in the Sisters of Charity orphanage, founded by Saint Vincent de Paul himself. The nuns that care for us, Sister Teresa, Sister Beth, and Sister Joy, are very kind and care for us orphans very well. We get clothed, fed, sheltered, educational books…What more could you ask for? Alright, so the educational book thing is pretty much a total drag. Well, except for the literature volumes. The Algebra ones tend to give me a migraine, though.

I'll be turning eighteen next month. You know what that means? No, I guess you wouldn't…Heh. Well, it means that I have to move out. You know, because I'm officially an adult and 'too old to be adopted'. Ah, whatever. I get my own space. I guess that's something to look forward to, not that I want to leave Sophie or anything, even if it's only for a small while.

Well, I had been planning to adopt Sophie for a while now, but in order to do _that_, I need to prove I'm responsible enough, which would require me to have a job. I have a couple of future apartments circled in a newspaper add…somewhere. I'm not very organized, in case you couldn't tell. My brain's a jumble of different things. Well, there is this pizza place across the street from one of the more promising apartment buildings. I think it's hiring, too. Hopefully I can get work there and start saving up some money for her adoption.

'My goodness,' I thought breathily. 'I hope I don't mess up again…'

Ah, yes, I have yet to inform you of my strangeness. Erm, how can I put this lightly…?

**I'm a freak.**

Yep, that sums it up quite nicely. My hair is strawberry-blonde and my eyes are violet, for cripe's sake! What kind of relatively normal person has _violet_ eyes? Alright, so Liv Tyler has violet eyes, big whoop. Who else, though? Huh, who? _Tell meeee_!

If my freakish coloring was my biggest problem, life would be cake, let me tell you. But, unfortunately, it's not my only dilemma. You see, strange things tend to happen when I'm around. What, you don't believe me? Okay, let me tell you something, you stinky… person! I cause televisions to go **_boom_**! Who do you know that does _that_? Ha ha, very funny. No, not your annoying younger siblings and their smug faces. I'm serious, here. I did explode a television before…and a computer…and, well…a lot of other electronic things.

Okay, I'm sure you've caused some serious damage to a TV before by just being stupid. Don't deny it! We've all done it. But, I mean, I didn't even **_touch_** the darn electrical thingy! I just walked by it! Yeah I know, right? How weird is that?

Hold up, I'm not done yet! I bet you're like, 'You've _got_ to be **_kidding_** me…' Yeah, _sorry_! It's not my fault I have major problems. Okay…Woo, this is hard for me…Umm…I can control…the weather…

Ha haha ha ha! Ah, I can just picture your faces now. But I _am_ serious. I **can** control the weather. Err, well…not exactly _control_ it. But I _can_ make it thunder when I'm angry! Yeah, I know. It's so **wicked**.

I don't just know this whole weather thing by chance, you know. I had to learn the hard way. When I say the 'hard way', I mean as in getting your hair fried when you're majorly ticked and your clothes soaked when you're outside crying and...yeah. You get the picture.

Honestly, I still can't believe I've never been accused of being a witch. Yeah, the Sisters are really strict when it comes to thoughts about magic, which is why our fantasy book selection is just about limited to Cinderella, Aladdin, and Sleeping Beauty. They're kind of lame now, but they were the best things goin' back when I was five.

Anyway, I'm just glad the Sisters have never suspected me of anything. That would be disastrous, to say the least. I'd most likely get booted out of the orphanage, not to mention that I would no longer be eligible to adopt Sophie. Oh, that would be horrible…Alright, let's not think about that anymore.

A pounding migraine later, and my thoughts were silenced with a painful wince.

"Ooow…" I moaned pitifully.

A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"Argh, I bet this is what I get for not meditating yesterday…"

**Pulse**, **_pulse_**.

"Owwwiiiee…So…painful…Alright, fine," I sucked in as much air as my lungs could hold and exhaled.

The headache slowly began to fade. Good, I'm improving. I closed my eyes and sat myself down in the lotus position. Now, for my meditation...

"Peace, tranquility, happiness. Peace, tranquility…happiness. Peace…tranquility…happiness…"

Finally, I was relaxed and meditating. My head was pain free, and my thoughts were starting to roam….This reminds me. I haven't told you how I ended up here yet. I hope you don't mind that you're in for another long story. Ah, well, the heck with it. Here goes nothin'…

My mum was a pretty woman, as far as I can recall. She had long, curly strawberry-blonde hair, not much unlike mine, and her eyes were a pleasant shade of red-brown. I can't remember much of her face, but I do know she was pale in complexion…

My** _father_** was a completely different story. He was my mother's opposite, everything about him being very defined and ultimately solid. His straight nose, defined jaw-line, and piercing violet eyes always seemed to follow me. I could never forget his face…The face of a betrayer. He left my mother and I when I was little, I think around three. I'm mildly surprised I even remember it so well…The sting of rejection still burns true when I…when I think about him.

'I always wondered…why he left us…' I trailed off sadly.

I shook my head forcefully to clear it of**_ traitorous_** thoughts.

After **_He_** left us, my mom became violently ill. She tried to care for me as best she could, but her illness won out in the end. She passed into Heaven on her birthday, mine being just around the corner. She was so young…I often wonder about the purpose behind her dying. Surely God couldn't have wanted me to suffer…? What am I thinking? Of course not…He…never….

It's alright, deep breaths now...

I was handed over to this very orphanage at age four. I've been here ever since. Why was I never adopted? Well, I'm a loner, simple as that. I used to seclude myself from the other children, and, apparently, none of the couples looking to adopt found it irresistibly adorable. Well, one did. But they died of a freak accident.

The only one I ever really talk to is little Sophie, and that's purely out of sisterly affection. I can never utter another syllable, unless it's required of me. I can't, for some reason, bring myself to talk out of turn. Sometimes I think it's because of losing both of my parents at the same time. I was so young, not to say I'm not now, but still. If the concept of death isn't enough, betrayal is a sure way to confusion at age three. No wonder I'm so messed up.

So, that's my story. Complicated, not exactly. I'm sure there are others with a tale longer and more complex than mine.

Suddenly, I was jolted from my meditation by a heart-stopping scream. It echoed loudly, seeming to come from a place down the hall. What was down the hall again…? Well, there were the washrooms, the kitchen, and…the Sisters' rooms!

"Oh.My._ **Gosh**_!"

And I was off, down the hall and making a beeline for the Sisters' bedrooms. I noticed the left door was ajar, and my thought process jerked to a stop. That's Sister Joyce's room…with the safe! I peaked through the crack and saw something shocking. A looming, dark figure was poised over a pale Sister Joyce and holding a rather large knife to her throat.

"Where's the safe, **_Sister_**?"

His gruff, disrespectful voice made me sick to my stomach. I clenched my fists, so tight I must've drawn blood. I was furious, and when I'm angry, I don't second guess myself. This guy was here to rob our little orphanage, and he was going _down_. **_Way down_**.

I saw red.

The next thing I knew, I was standing next to Sister Joyce's bedside…with the burglar unconscious at my feet. I glanced around at the seemingly windswept room. At first, I was proud. I had immobilized a potential burglar! Surely the Sisters would be grateful! But then, I looked up into the frightened faces of all three Sisters…and saw my spread hands, humming with power. I closed my eyes with shame. I had done the unthinkable.

And now they knew.


	2. The Ashcrofts

Extraordinary- **Chapter Two:** The Ashcrofts

**plummet: **Alrighty, chapter two is ready and posted! In case you're wondering whether or not I actually have a life (which I don't…lol), I've been writing this fic for awhile now, and I already have about four chapters typed up. I'm just spending my time looking for errors before I post them. So, after posting chapter four, things might slow down a bit because I have to write all the chapters fresh from then on. Not too much slower, though. I'll probably be updating about once or twice every two weeks…(hopefully).

-

_Extreme happiness begets tragedy…-**Chinese Proverb; 1906.**_

* * *

I stood completely still, staring blankly at a wooden door with the golden number _124_ nailed to its front; the door to a quaint little tan-colored house on the corner of Sparrow Boulevard. This particular humble abode belonged to none other than my new foster family, the Ashcrofts. The Sisters had managed to convey their deepest concern for me and my well-being, but I could tell they were just glad to be rid of me. I could see it in their eyes; could feel it in their auras.

Apparently, the Ashcrofts were looking to adopt for awhile now and jumped at the chance to foster me. Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft were a lovely, happy couple, and their teenage daughter Layla was very kind and good-spirited. They seemed to be the best opportunity a gal could hope for in a foster family. But the thing is, I didn't **want** a foster family. I didn't want to be pitied or to be thought of as some act of charity. I sighed. Oh well. It was a home and a start.

I raised my arm to knock on the door when it opened of its own accord. There stood Mrs. Ashcroft, smiling brightly at me.

"Oh, well hello, dear! You must be Amelie! Come in, come in!" she said while ushering me inside.

I slung my old and worn jean backpack over my shoulder and followed her in. In surveying my surroundings, I came to the conclusion that I had entered the Ashcrofts' living room. Furnished with an olive green futon, oriental rugs sprawled across the wooden floor, a nice little bookshelf in one corner, and some plants and cats here and there, it painted a picture of a family who's very…down to earth.

The corners of my mouth twitched into something that resembled a smile for the first time that day.

"Well, dearie, don't just stand there! Make yourself at home!" Mrs. Ashcroft was smiling at me again.

Just then, Layla sauntered into the room.

Mrs. Ashcroft turned her sparkling, honey-colored eyes to Layla. "Oh, there you are, Layla. Look, Amelie's here! Why don't you show her to her new room, hmm?"

"Sure thing, Mom!" Layla was smiling too.

And, despite it all, I even found myself smirking along with them.

Layla led the way up the white-washed staircase to a room on the far left side of the hallway. She opened the door, and I followed her inside. I must say, the room was rather cute. The walls were a buttercup yellow, and the bed in the middle of the room had a comforter with a daisy print. The window set into the far wall was adorned with gauzy, yellow curtains, and the dresser against the right wall looked to be made of oak. In a bright, happy-go-lucky, flower-loving kind of way…the bedroom suited me.

"Well, here's your new room. I hope you like it. I picked out the color scheme myself."

I was speechless. They actually cared enough to paint and furnish a room…just for me?

"It's wonderful! Thank you very much. You…You didn't have to go and redo a room just for me…"

Great job there, Amelie. I'm sure you sounded sincere…

"It was no trouble, honest. It's the least we could do for you!" Layla sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. "Come, sit! I want to get to know you a bit before school starts tomorrow…"

I blinked confusedly at her. "Um…school? What's this about school?"

"Nobody told you? Woops…Well, you'll be going to Sky High with me tomorrow."

"Sky High? Is that a…public school?" I was still totally lost.

"No one told you about Sky High either? Wow, erm…Sky High is a school for teens with super powers…"

My eyes widened, and suddenly, everything made sense. The Sisters had handed me over to Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft because they had a daughter with _magical_ powers. I grew nervous as my mind processed this information completely. Then, the Ashcrofts must know all about my own powers…

I decided to break the ice, "So, you know about my powers, then?"

I shifted my feet and nervously twisted the strap of my backpack. Layla must've sensed my discontentment for she got up and gave me a one-armed hug.

"Yes, and don't worry, school will be fine for you. The kids at Sky High aren't all that scary, you'll like them. And, if not, you'll have me there with you." She gave me a half smile when she pulled away and then sat back on the bed. "Well, aren't you going to sit down?"

I nodded and sat next to her. Man, was this bed comfortable or what?

"You don't…" I swallowed and started over, "You aren't afraid of me, are you?"

Layla's brow furrowed. "Why would I be afraid of you? ...Because you have super powers? Honestly, I think your power is really cool. Controlling the weather must be awesome…I control plants." She shrugged nonchalantly as if having such a super power was no big deal.

"You think my ability to control the weather is…cool?" I held in my sigh of relief when I figured that they must not know about my electrical 'mishaps'. That would've been a hard one to explain.

"Heck yeah! Why wouldn't I?"

"Um…well, I don't know. I was just never praised for having powers before…"

"There's a first for everything, you know!" Layla beamed at me.

I cracked a smile. Well, she's just a ball of sunshine, isn't she?

We sat together on the bed in surprisingly comfortable silence until Mrs. Ashcroft's voice rang out, "Layla, Amelie, dinner's ready!"

"Thank goodness, I'm starving." Layla stood up and brushed nonexistent dust off of her brown, flowing skirt.

She walked out of the room and a good way down the hall until she realized that I wasn't following. Poking her head back in the room, she asked with laughter in her voice, "Aren't you coming?"

I stood up rather quickly. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I don't know where my head is today."

'_Smooth, girl. Real smooth. You know very well where your head is.' _My conscience hissed at me_. 'It's back at the orphanage…thinking about a little redheaded girl and how you **broke her heart**.'_

Not wanting Layla to know of my distress, I held back a wince. Sometimes my conscience goes a little too far, but not this time. I definitely deserved that.

"On your shoulders, I hope," Layla teased lightly as she led me down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Ooh, dinner smells good, Mom."

"Thank you, sweety. Oh, and Amelie, this is my husband, Cole. Cole, dear, this is Amelie Bowen."

My eyes fell upon a rather attractive man who appeared to be in his mid forties. His dark hair was touched with a bit of silver, and his face sported the genuine, Ashcroft smile.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bowen," Cole Ashcroft said kindly.

"Likewise, Mr. Ashcroft," I replied.

The Ashcrofts all seated themselves around a rather elaborate dining table, and I followed suit, sitting down next to Layla and across from Mrs. Ashcroft. They were having some kind of rice served with some brown stuff and a garden salad. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.

"Oh, the brown stuff is tofu, by the way. It's a meat substitute," Layla explained helpfully.

Ah, that would explain why I had no idea what it was. Well, it was worth a shot. After we had said grace at my request, I tried a forkful of the tofu. I chewed for a bit, testing its texture and taste.

"Mmm, this is really good, Mrs. Ashcroft."

"Why thank you, Amelie. You may call me Grace, if you like. No need for formalities. We're all friends here."

"Okay…Grace."

It felt awkward addressing an adult figure so informally, but what the heck. We all ate in silence for a while until Mr. Ashcroft asked me a question.

"So, Amelie, do you like your room?"

I finished swallowing some of the garden salad I had been previously chewing. "Yes, it's great, thanks."

"That's good to hear. I was afraid you weren't going to like it. Not all girls are _girly_ like our Layla," Mr. Ashcroft jokingly said.

"Dad! I am **not** _girly_. Nature-loving, yes. Girly, **no**." Layla pouted.

"Say that to your pink room and your closet full of skirts, hon."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. However, my laughter died in my throat as soon as I glanced at Layla. She looked extremely offended, and I felt horrible for causing it. I hurriedly apologized to remedy the situation, but she dismissed it by saying that she was only joking.

I blinked. "Oh," I stupidly muttered.

I mentally sighed, 'Of _course_ she was joking, you dimwit. Way to look completely **stupid**!'

The harshness my mental insults fell upon deaf…minds as the Ashcrofts only smiled good-naturedly in return.

'They're so easy-going…' I thought wistfully. 'If only…' My eyes hardened and I snapped at myself. '**No**! No dwelling on what could have been. The past is the past. She's not…She's not coming back…' Violet turned to a dewy lilac as I became caught up in some depressing memories.

"Who's not coming back, dear?" Mrs. Ashcroft asked softly, bringing me back from my thoughts.

Oh, crap. I must've said that last part out loud.

"Erm, nobody. No one. It's nothing," I said hurriedly. 'What a genius you are, Amelie! They definitely don't suspect a thing…' I thought bitingly in response.

Layla and Mr. Ashcroft were staring at me as if I was some sort of puzzle to be solved.

"Well, if you say so, sweety," Mrs. Ashcroft replied uncertainly.

An awkward silence hung in the air, during which everyone finished off almost or all of their dinner.

Mr. Ashcroft decided to save the conversation, "So, are you ready for your first day at Sky High tomorrow, Amelie?"

I raised a strawberry-blond eyebrow. "Oh, you bet, Mr. Ashcroft," I replied somewhat sarcastically.

If they noticed my name slip up, they definitely didn't show it.

"Oh, honey, you'll be fine!" Mrs. Ashcroft cut in. "Really, you're a very likable, pretty girl. You'll have tons of friends by the end of the first day!"

Boy, Mrs. Ashcroft uses many endearments when addressing people. And, why's she saying such nice things about me? She's just met me, for goodness' sake! And if I'm such a 'good' person, why did I end up in an orphanage...?

I sighed.

Sometimes bad things happen to good people, I guess. Ooh, look! I thought an optimistic thought! What? You think that's funny? You want summa this?

While I was mentally…arguing with myself, the silence must've stretched on for a pretty long time because Mr. Ashcroft felt the need to loudly clear his throat. I started a bit, not expecting to hear that particular sound.

"Wha…?" I inquired confusedly.

"Are you sure you're alright, Ammie?" Layla's voice was laced with concern.

"Oh yeah, I'm perfectly fine. Never been better," I said with false cheerfulness, not even noticing the specific nickname Layla had given me.

Layla turned to her mother, "She's just nervous about her first day, Mom. Not to mention, her first day at a **public** high school."

Shock flashed across my eyes when I concluded that she was partly right. I **am** nervous. "You read people very well," I whispered to Layla.

She smirked at me and whispered back, "Thanks."

A wave of understanding passed between us and, just like that, we were friends.

"Oh, well, is there anything we can do to make it easier for you, dear?"

I glanced at Mrs. Ashcroft when my brain grasped the fact that she was addressing me, "Um…it would be nice to have a more in depth explanation about the classes, teachers, hall set-ups…You know, stuff like that."

Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft seemed to be completely lost on where to begin, but Layla slipped easily into story-teller mode.

"Hmm…where to start? Ah yes, let's start with the different groups," She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.

"Okay, when you first arrive at Sky High, you'll be tested by Coach Boomer, the gym teacher, who'll put you in either the hero or sidekick category. Personally, sidekicks are heroes too, but I'll get into that later. Anyway, after that…Wait, you **are** a junior, right?" At my nod, she proceeded to explain, "Yes, well, juniors and seniors have certain electives available such as art and various music classes, regardless of whether you're a sidekick or a hero. And teachers…Well, you'll see for yourself tomorrow."

I absorbed all of the information she had just given me when I realized that she didn't mention anything about the building itself.

"Uh, how will I find my way around?" I asked warily in case I missed something from her explanation.

"The halls are really hard to describe. I'll have to show you around myself tomorrow, sorry."

I sighed. Figures. Nothing can ever be simple.

"So, are you a hero or a sidekick?" I inquired conversationally.

"Sidekick and proud of it!" Layla made the 'victory' sign and stuck her tongue out at me.

I made a weird face in retaliation. Mr. Ashcroft decided to interrupt us, however. Aw shucks, and I was just getting started.

"Well, girls, we've been at this dinner table for quite awhile now, and it's getting late. Why don't you two scallywags go and get ready for bed?"

I pretended to put on an imaginary pirate hat. "Arr, matey. Ye be right."

Layla echoed what I said in a parrot-like voice, "Squaaawk ye be right, ye be right."

"Ye be a mighty fine parrot, lassie," I complimented Layla.

She winked. "Squaaaaaak mighty fine parrot, squaawk."

"Alright, that's enough you two. Move your land lovin' selves upstairs," Mrs. Ashcroft teased.

I pulled out my make-believe sword from its make-believe scabbard, narrations and all, and pointed it in the direction of Layla.

"Avast ye, matey! Draw yer sword an' fight like the lass thatcha are!"

In drawing her 'sword', she accepted my challenge, and we mock charged at each other, narrating the swishing and clanging noises made in a real swordfight all the way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. When the last "Yarr, ye almost got me" faded from earshot, Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft broke out into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

**vionette:** Thanks so much for taking your time to review my fanfic! I know it's not anything yet, but there are (hopefully) better and more exciting chapters to come! Like this one, for instance! -coughs _yeah_ _right _coughs- -glares at self-Heh. Anywho, yes, thanks again for reviewing and to answer your unspoken question, Amelie is **_not_** going to be a Mary Sue! Hehe. That is all.

**T: **Thank you very much for reading my fic! It makes me so happy to know that you liked the first chapter! I worked very hard on it. I hope you're as pleased with this chapter as you were with chapter one! Thanks again.


	3. Innocent First Encounters

Extraordinary - **Chapter Three: **Innocent First Encounters

**plummet:** Hey, back again. Sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter, but it's one of the longer ones. –winks- You'll see why soon enough.

_Crowded streets are cleared away  
One by one  
Hollow heroes separate  
As they run  
You're so cold  
Keep your hand in mine…- **So Cold; **Breaking Benjamin_

* * *

I awoke with a nasty start, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. I was…late for something really important, but that something seemed to elude me.

'Why can't I remember…?' I thought airily, the fog of sleep slowly creeping back into my mind.

My eyes lazily scanned the room, heart rate slowing considerably. Eyes halting on the daisy-shaped alarm clock near my bed, I stared blankly at the glaring red numbers. 6:45 A.M…Did that time mean anything?

Suddenly, it hit me. "Ho-ly **CRAP**! The bus leaves at 7:00!"

I hurled myself out of bed and managed to land on my feet: which, I might add, was an amazing feat in itself because I'm very clumsy. Grabbing my favorite and only pair of faded, ripped jeans, a simple black t-shirt, and my beloved white and black checkered shoes, I sprinted into the bathroom across the hall. In record time, I swapped my pj's with the clothing items I had just hurriedly picked out, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and washed my face.

Running like a mad woman down the stairs and into the kitchen, I checked the clock on the stove. It was currently 6:55 A.M.

"Oh my goodness…I am **_so_** gonna miss the bus!"

I was in mid-stride when I realized something. "Hold up…Where **is** everybody?" I felt the beginnings of a panic attack coming on.

'This is just stinkin' **peachy**. I'm late, I don't know where anyone is, and to top it all off, I have _no_ idea how to get to the bus stop!' I mentally ranted while throwing my hands up in exasperation.

I jumped up and down frantically. "Why isn't anyone up**_ yet_**!" I whined.

I looked at the clock again: 6:57 A.M. Screaming in frustration, I ran into the living room, snatched up my electric blue zip-up jacket and back pack, and threw them both carelessly over my shoulder.

I yanked open the front door and was just about to dash outside when a voice stopped me, "Um…Amelie? Where are you going?"

I pivoted on my heel and stared at Layla's pajama-clad self as if she'd just grown another head. "Where am I going!" I half asked, half shouted at her. "Layla, we're late, and we're going to miss the bus!"

"What do you mean,_ late_? It's only 6:30," Layla stated, completely flabbergasted by my outburst.

"No, it's 7:00! And…" I sighed, "And we missed the bus. Wonderful."

I walked over to the couch and sat down on it heavily. Layla descended the rest of the stairs and came to sit next to me.

I started to take a mental count of all the things that had gone wrong, 'Let's see…I missed the bus, I probably look a mess from rushing, I'm starving, I-'

My thoughts were interrupted when Layla decided to speak, "Oh my gosh, I'm **_so_** sorry! I know why you thought that now! I must've set your alarm clock to the clock in the kitchen. It's a half an hour off…"

Ah, I don't remember that tick ever being in my eye before. "A half…an **hour**…?" I questioned rather calmly, considering the situation at hand.

"Heh heh. Yeah…" Layla said rather sheepishly. She flashed me a smile. "Look on the bright side! At least you're…" Her smile turned nervous when she saw my annoyed face. "Ready for…school…Eh heh heh…"

I took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out very slowly. There, all better.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad that I didn't have to sprint to the bus stop."

I smirked at her.

She smiled. "Phew, I thought you were going to choke me for a second there!"

I wiped my face clean of all emotion and said seriously, "Who said I wasn't going to choke you?"

Layla looked a bit frightened, and I let out a bark of laughter, "Hah! I was just kidding, silly!"

Layla's fright faded away, and her usual cheerfulness returned. Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Ashcroft came down the stairs.

"Good morning, girls!" Mrs. Ashcroft greeted us happily.

"Good morning," Layla and I both echoed.

Mr. Ashcroft just smiled warmly at us. Layla and I then followed her parents into the kitchen, and three of us sat down at the table. Only Mrs. Ashcroft remained standing.

"So, are you a tea drinker, Amelie?" she addressed me.

"Um…I've never really had tea before."

She put a hand to her chest, "**_Never_** had tea! Did you hear that, Hon?"

"Sure did, Mom. Well, we'll just have to introduce her to the wonders of tea-drinking," Layla said with a giggle.

She then rose out of her chair and got out a box of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, a bowl, a spoon, and a milk carton. As she was fixing herself a bowl of cereal, Mr. Ashcroft got out of his seat to make himself a cup of coffee.

"Alright. So how about it, Amelie?"

"Sure…What could it hurt?"

"Well, only your sleep, if you become addicted," Mr. Ashcroft joked.

I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled.

I half smiled. Layla and Mr. Ashcroft sat back down as I got up. I made myself a nice big bowl of cereal and ate away happily. I'd never had any kind of cheerios before, let alone the apple cinnamon ones.

Mrs. Ashcroft put on a pot of tea and handed me my cup when it was finished. I put my now empty bowl in the sink and accepted the warm mug of tea from her with a murmured, "Thanks". In sipping the tea, I closed my eyes in bliss.

"Mmm…What kind is this?" I asked to no one in particular.

Layla answered, "Earl Grey. It's the only kind we ever buy."

"Oooh, is it a British tea?"

"Yeah, it is. How'd you know?"

I grinned. "Just a lucky guess."

Breakfast time with the Ashcrofts went by relatively quickly and, before I knew it, Layla and I were standing at the bus stop and waiting for the bus. I had put on my jacket and zipped it up, but I still felt plain compared to Layla who was wearing a faded green tank top, a dark-green layered skirt, and a pair of comfy looking green oriental slippers. Apparently, you were supposed to dress up for the first day of school. I wouldn't know because I'd never attended public school before, being schooled at the orphanage and all.

I worried my bottom lip. We had been standing there for an estimate of five minutes, but it felt like forever to me. There was a flash of yellow out of the corner of my eye, and I looked up to find the bus parked in front of us.

Layla turned and smiled reassuringly at me. "Don't worry yourself sick, okay? You'll be fine, trust me."

'I think it's a little too late for the worrying yourself sick part…' I thought as my stomach made some rather nasty churns.

I never liked meeting new people. It had always seemed pointless to me. And anyway, I kind of have a horrible phobia when it comes to public speaking…An inferiority complex, if you will.

Taking a deep, calming breath, I fixed my backpack strap and climbed aboard the bus. About twenty-five pairs of eyes fell on me. Oh, no, I didn't **_see_** them all staring at me. I was gazing nervously at my shoes. But, I **_felt_ **their stares, and that made me even more uncomfortable. My heart began to beat so furiously against my ribcage that it hurt.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, a male voice said, "Well, Miss, I don't remember ever seeing you on this bus before. You must be new."

I turned to the source of the voice and found a tad bit pudgy, middle-aged man. The tag on his shirt read: Ron Wilson, Bus Driver.

"Um, yeah…I'm Amelie Bowen." I replied in one breath.

"Ron Wilson," he pointed to his tag, "Bus driver."

I smiled softly at his greeting and murmured a quiet, "Nice to meet you" before looking up at the kids on the bus for the first time.

Oh no…My nervousness was back in full force. There were so many of them…Too, **_too_ **many them…I couldn't do it. I started to back up, but then I found Layla in the crowd and saw that she was waving me over. I reminded myself to thank her later.

Walking down the aisle, I carefully avoided the eyes of everyone else and just focused on Layla and the seat she was waving me into.

'Okay, you can do this. No big deal. Just pretend…Just imagine that they're not there…' I attempted to soothe myself, but it wasn't working.

When I reached Layla, she smiled brightly at me. "See, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

I stared blankly at her, but she paid me no mind, turning around to talk to the brown-haired boy she was sitting with and three other kids I'd never seen before. The bus started with a purr from the engine and began to move forward. I furrowed my brow. Why was my side so…warm? I looked over my shoulder and saw that a rather attractive guy was sitting next to me. Okay, who am I kidding? He was **fine**!

'Serve me up summa that beef cake!' I thought before I could stop myself.

I mentally rolled my eyes at my antics. Moving **_on_**…Yes, well he was very punk/rock-ish in his tattered jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket and cut-off gloves With further examination, I discovered that his shirt had the Chinese character for 'fire' on it in bright red.

Don't ask. I had read a lot of language-based books back at the orphanage. There wasn't much else to do.

His thick, brown hair was angled and layered so that it went from his chin to the base of his neck, framing his angular face in a neat, yet messy sort of way. A couple streaks of red lined the front, right part of his hair. I must've been gaping at him for awhile because he glanced over at me, looking annoyed.

"You know, it's rude to stare," He said a little gruffly in a low baritone.

I had to bite my tongue to keep my mouth from falling upon. With his dark, fathomless eyes, you could almost assume he'd be able to peer into your soul. Basically, he was just drop dead _gorgeous_. A light blush crept across my cheeks at the realization.

'Oh, I hope he doesn't notice that I'm blushing…'

_

* * *

_

At first, I wanted to tell whoever had sat down in my seat to get the hell out, but then I saw who it was: the new girl. I had watched her walk on the bus and shyly converse with the bus driver. She was dressed rather plainly with a black shirt, blue jacket,and ripped jeans,but it was a nice kind of plain. Nice kind of plain? What the frick? Where did **that **come from? …Whatever.

Anyway, I have to give her credit. She's one of the only girls, ever, that had even remotely caught my interest. Layla had too, but not like this. I'd only ever felt friendship with Layla. This was…different somehow. Attraction, maybe? Ah yeah, that just cramped my style.

I noticed she'd been looking me over for awhile now. I decided to play with her a bit and let her look, while I watched her from her reflection in the bus window. I had to hold back a smirk when I saw her struggle to keep her mouth shut. Without much thought, I decided to tease her some more. Later, I'd probably wonder what the hell had gotten into me.

Glancing at her, I feigned annoyance, "You know, it's rude to stare."

Her eyes widened a bit in shock and uncertainty.

'Probably not expecting that I'd talk to her…' I thought to myself.

I would have chuckled cruelly were it any other girl but her. I shifted slightly in my seat so I could better assess her.

Deciding to look at her from an artist's perspective, I started with the basics. She was thin, her complexion being very pale. The contours of her face were almost pixie-like in appearance with her small and pert nose, softly pointed chin, and arched brows. But her eyes…They stood out a vivid purple against her almost normal features.

There I go with that strange feeling again. I guess you could call it attraction…or something. Probably not, I mean…She wasn't exactly what anyone would call _beautiful_, but she was pretty. Er, I guess.

My eyes danced when I saw her blush. Raising my brow, I decided to point it out to her, "You're blushing."

_

* * *

_

"You're blushing," he decided to eloquently point out, raised eyebrow and all.

My blush only deepened.

As if I wasn't embarrassed enough for being caught blushing and staring, my backpack that was resting in my lap decided to randomly open, causing one of my notebooks to slip out and fall onto the floor. Mortified, I averted my eyes from the greatly amused guy sitting next to me and started to bend over to pick up my book. He beat me to it, however, and held it out to me.

I smiled faintly at him, the pink in my cheeks finally fading.

"I didn't know chivalry was still alive," I said softly while reaching out to take back my notebook from him.

"Um, thanks…?" I questioned, wordlessly asking him to tell me his name.

"Warren. Warren Peace," he answered grimly.

"Ah, nice name. Very original," I commented offhandedly while putting my notebook back in its rightful place. I then pointed to myself. "I'm Amelie Bowen. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peace."

I held out my hand to him in greeting. Mumbling something that sounded like 'Dido', he took my hand.

Unexpectedly and without warning, two seatbelts came out from the back of the seat, crisscrossed over my chest, and buckled me in.

I vaguely heard the bus driver, Ron Wilson, say, "Okay kiddies, hold on to your hats!"

And then the bus took flight. In all my nervousness and panic, I lightly squeezed someone's hand for comfort. I sucked in my breath and, after a couple minutes or so, I let it out in a sigh.

'Well, that was altogether unexpected!' I thought sarcastically, the initial shock of flight wearing off. 'Er, why can't I move my right hand?"

Out of my peripheral vision, I found that my hand was still enclosed in Warren's much bigger and more masculine one. I flexed my fingers a bit,and his hand unconsciously squeezed mine to stop my fingers from moving. Furrowing my brow, I looked at our joined hands for a short moment and then at him. He was looking as calm as ever, nonchalantly staring out the bus window and at the passing clouds.

Ismirked wryly. 'He must not realize he still has my hand.'

The bus stopped ascending and steadied. My smile evanesced and the seatbelts loosened. I attempted to pull my hand away, but to no avail. Warren just gripped it tighter. Exhaling heavily, I decided to just wait until he let go. It would be way too awkward to ask him to release it myself. I flushed just thinking about it.

Abruptly, Warren's hand grew hot and a wave of heat washed over me, warming my hand to the point of comfort. For the first time ever, my hand wasn't ice cold.

He then glanced over at me and mumbled something.

"Pardon?" I asked. I hadn't heard what he said.

"I said, _your hand was cold_," he repeated, louder this time, as if it explained everything.

He let go of my hand, and it grew cold again from the sudden loss of his body heat.

"Oh," I said simply, pulling my hand dejectedly back onto my lap.

It was kind of strange, experiencing a piece of someone else's power for the first time. I took an educated guess and figured his powers had something to do with fire.

A long, pregnant pause formed in which neither of us said anything. After what couldn't have been more than a few minutes, some snickers were heard coming from the seat in front of us, and the quiet was broken.

I took one look at the source of the snickers and furrowed my brow. It was Layla and that brown-haired boy from earlier. They were both turned around in their seats, smiling at Warren and me.

'Why are they looking at us like that…?' I thought confusedly.

Their smiles turned devilish, and I shrunk back in my seat. 'Err…Alright, guys…You can stop now…'

_

* * *

_

'What're they smiling at?' I thought irritably.

My expression turned sour. They had better not be thinking what I think they are.

Just then, their smiles turned almost evil, and my thoughts were confirmed. Would they ever get a**_ life_**?

I glared at them. "Did you **need** something?" I inquired with a dangerous arch of my eyebrow.

Layla's eyes were filled up to brim with giddiness. She turned back around in her seat, but not before mouthing 'We'll talk later' to Amelie. I rolled my eyes. I did **not** want to know what they were going to talk about. But, then again…I wasn't really sure.

Will smiled sheepishly at me and mimicked Layla, turning back around. Good. Be **very** afraid, Stronghold.

I glanced at Amelie from the corner of my eye. She was nervously worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. My eyes closed of their own accord, and I tilted my head back, encasing it with shadows. Suddenly, the whole situation had lost my interest.

_

* * *

_

My face turned scarlet.

'How much can a girl possibly blush in **_one_** day!' I thought frantically.

Layla and Will hadn't said anything yet, but I could tell they wanted to. I was still clueless as to why they were staring at us. Let's just say, at that time, I had never thought I'd be _'put in the picture'_ with another guy, let alone a guy like Warren. My thoughts were still innocently centered on confusion.

After it had ebbed slightly, I took my time in looking over Layla's 'seat buddy'. He was pretty attractive and fairly muscular (thought not as much as Warren) with shaggy, red-brown hair and brown eyes. He must've been a nice guy because Layla seemed to be really close to him. She was resting her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, hugging her to him. The corner of my mouth quirked into a half smile. They looked cute together.

My eyes shifted over to Warren who was staring out the window again. His face was stony; his jaw set. Somehow, I didn't think we'd be friends, let alone speak again anytime soon.

My seatbelt began to loosen as I felt the bus losing altitude. Avoiding Warren, I looked out the window on the other side. We were going to land on what seemed to be a…floating…_island_?

The bus landed smoothly on a clear patch of ground. Apparently, Mr. Wilson was a pilot as well as a bus driver.

"Ride's over, kids. Everybody off," I heard Mr. Wilson say.

Everyone got up and out of their seats and started exiting the bus. When it was my turn to pass by Mr. Wilson, he smiled at me. I tilted my head in acknowledgement with a small smile of my own.

I trailed demurely behind Layla, her 'boyfriend', Warren, and a group of seven other kids as we walked up to the school entrance. I looked over my shoulder to see a gathering of seemingly lost students in the courtyard. They must be the freshmen.

I craned my neck to get a better view of the school. Students were constantly milling in and out; more people than I'd ever seen in one place…

This was going to be a challenge.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

**vionette: **Hehe yeah, I know! I thought the parrot-Layla thing was kinda funny, so I stuck it in. Glad you liked it. Thank ye 'gain, ya scallywag! Ye be too kind fer yer own good.

**T:** Thanks. I'll try my best to post as often as I can.

**AuburnTressed: **Thanks! I thought for a looong time about how I was going to portray my OC. If her character ever becomes unbelievably bland, let me know.

**Rae-scars adorn me: **Heh, thanks. Lol, I try to be funny. Tell me if I ever try too hard. –falls over-

**RaevenMoon: **Same here! My friends and I pretend to be pirates all the time…And Aussies, and Britts, and…You get the idea.


	4. Trials of Power Placement

Extraordinary- **Chapter Four:** Trials of Power Placement

**plummet: **Aiight, chapter four is posted! This chapter is a little more lightly written than the others. If you don't like a lot of humor, please let me know. Oh, and I just realized I haven't been posting the disclaimers…Ah, well here's one now:

**Disclaimer** I don't own anything…blah, blah…from Sky High….blah, blahdy blah….actors/actresses…blahdy…plot…blah.

**plummet:** Lovely, ain't it?

-

'The only really valuable thing is intuition…'-_ **Albert Einstein**_

* * *

Perhaps dawdling around outside wasn't one of my more brilliant ideas. Why, do you ask? Well, to put it simply…it got me lost. And not just _lost_. I mean, at least lost people have enough sense to ask for directions. Er, most of them, anyway. I was _hopelessly _lost. I had _no idea_ where to go or what to look for. Nada. Zip. So, what did I end up doing? 

I wandered; drifted aimlessly about the halls like a complete and utter** bafoon**.

_Nice one, Ammie._

Yeah I know, right? As I was saying…I just drifted about. It was like my body moved of its own accord…Everything I did was, I can't seem to describe it any better than 'empty'; 'thoughtless'. It was…strange, to say the least.

You know what else I found strange? There was _no one _in the halls. They were totally cleared of students. Huh, guess I must've dawdled more than I thought.

I furrowed my brow a bit. I distinctly recall Layla telling me something yesterday…What was it? Oh yeah! I'm supposed to go to 'power placement'! Er…whatever that is. Or, considering my current predicament, _wherever_ that is.

So again, what did I end up doing? Er, no, I didn't go to get a doughnut. Though, I would like one right now. I've only had one once before, and boy was it good! What was it called again? Boston Cream, maybe? Or…something. But man…that would be _sweet_ if I cou-

I got a smidge off track there, sorry. _Anyhow_, I stopped walking. Right. When I have next to no destination, I walk around, constantly getting more and more lost by the minute. But then, when I actually **have** a purpose, I stop walking. Go figure.

Well, I have to say this. God must love me right now. Not even joking. You wanna know where I just happened to end up? No, **_not_** in front of a cafe (I wish…)!

In front of the gym.

There stood its doors in all their brown, wooden glory….and the very unobvious lighter brown lettering proclaiming its name on one of the said doors for those of us who aren't almost color blind. Heh, I guess that has me out for the count.

'Hallelujah,' I mentally praised.

I practically yanked open the gym doors in all my enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, my happiness was destined to be short-lived, for when my eyes took in all of the students gathered there…I blanched. My knees locked, my eyes squeezed shut…I couldn't move a muscle or conjure up a single thought. I was frozen.

I don't think I'll ever say this again in my_ life_…But thank goodness for Coach Boomer at that moment. If it weren't for him, I'm positive that I would've been frozen in place until everyone left of their own accord, magically or otherwise.

"**AMELIE BOWEN! ARE YOU HERE**!"

Coach Boomer's voice echoed obnoxiously throughout the gym room (and painfully throughout the skulls of everyone else present). I'm thankful to this man? Che, well his voice got the job done, anyhow.

I snapped out of it.

"Ah," I winced, "Yeah, I'm here!"

I raised my hand so he could spot me out. Are your ears supposed to ring for this long…?

No matter, because at that precise moment, everyone's head snapped in my direction. I gulped. Oh boy…

My frantic eyes locked on Coach Boomer's…which were _not_ happy. Frankly, I'd say he was straight up PO-ed.

"**WHAT ARE YOU TRYIN' TO PULL, BOWEN! TARDINESS IS UNACCEPTABLE!"**

If possible, I think my brain just exploded. Fortunately, despite the resounding pain in my eardrums, I managed a quick, 'Sorry'. That seemed to calm him down. Well, a little bit, anyway.

"Yeah, yeah…**_Whiner-baby_**! I don't take crap from kids like you! Now, get up here and show me your power!"

At least he quieted down to more of a scathing bark. Notice the sarcasm? Good. Though, my ears are still ringing…Ah, oh well.

It was then that I noticed just how far away the gym teacher was standing…and what he was standing on: a platform. Oh…wonderful. I braced myself. I would have to stand in front of a crowd sooner or later…Though frankly, I'd rather not at the moment. Somehow, if the look in his eyes was any indication, I don't think I had a choice.

I began walking.

Hundreds of eyes were burning into the back of my head…It made me wonder if they found my discomfort entertaining.

I counted my steps:

One, two, three…seven, eight, nine…twenty…thirty-one.

'Thirty-one? What kind of crap number is that?' I thought insanely to myself.

"I'm waiting, **Bowen**."

Alright, _someone's_ a little testy. So, to avoid angering Mr. Cranky-pants, I climbed onto the platform and…faced the audience.

If you haven't noticed already, I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous. It's a habit with me, you see, and not even a good one because, well…I keep them to myself. Some say that having an internal conversation is unhealthy. Well, here's what I have to say in response to that: Trust me, you get used to it after awhile.

With a cough from the very irate teacher behind me, I decided to get on with it. But…what exactly was I expected to do?

'Okay, Ammie, deep breaths now. You can do this…'

Hands spread wide and feet set shoulders' width apart, I did the only thing I could do: I thought up a storm. Literally.

Okay, okay, it wasn't exactly a _storm_. It was…Well, it was more of a little stratus cloud, but that counts, right? …Please tell me that counts.

But then, I guess it doesn't really matter if it had or not because, at that precise moment, my little stratus cloud decided to meander on over Coach Boomers head and…rain on him.

Ew, cloud pee.

If you hate Coach Boomer when he's dry, you're sure gonna down right _abhor_ him soaking wet. And not voluntarily wet, I might just add.

He turned to face me, and just to cause me extreme pain (I'm sure), he bellowed at the top of his lungs:

"**SIDE-KICK!"**

Alright, yeah, my brain just exploded.

_

* * *

_

I had been wandering the halls absently when an inhuman shout reached me:

"**SIDE-KICK!"**

I'm disgusted to say that his obnoxiously loud voice will be forever _engraved_ into my brain. Despite hearing it so many times before, something told me to stop. Not normally one to ignore gut feelings, I obeyed. Looking over my shoulder, I found that I had stopped a little ways in front of the gym entrance.

.._Okay, _Now what?

I rolled my eyes as I pivoted on my heel and opened the gym doors. An assault of anxiously whispering voices washed over me like an unexpected wave. I searched for the source of the commotion and invariably found it, or should I say _her_.

"Ah, hell…"

There Amelie was, an ungraceful heap on the platform, a soaking wet Coach Boomer glancing irritably down at her. If I wasn't momentarily stunned to find Amelie unconcious, I would've laughed whole-heartedly at the sight of him.

Navigating my way through the sea of freshmen, a frown marring my features, I made my way to the platform. I bent down, gathered Amelie into my arms and, without a word to anyone, exited the gym room.

Unfortunately for me, I bumped into Layla, Stronghold and their posse on my way to the nurse's office. What're the odds? Well, they're against me, obviously.

"What happened?" Layla questioned, concerned.

"Found her in the gym. From what I understand, Boomer must've knocked her out," I answered methodically.

Layla and Maj gasped with indignance, "No!"

"No need to go all 'feminist' on me. He used his powers, not his fist."

"Oh," They sighed in unison.

"Alright, ladies, question time later. Right now, we have to get her to the nurse," Zach soothed.

'New that kid had his uses…' I thought offhandedly.

_

* * *

_

"…been out for quite some time…" I distantly heard someone say.

All my senses came rushing back after that. I was on some kind of cot with a hard, stiff mattress. My unusually dry eyes peeled open, and I shied back from the bright light I was greeted with. I had to blink a few times to clear my vision. If the white-washed walls and sterile smell were any indication, I was in the nurse's office. But _why_?

"Oh, thank _goodness_ you're alright!"

And that was the only warning I received before I was enveloped into overeager arms.

"Layla…" I started, my voice a little muffled, "I'm fine."

She swatted me lightly on the arm. "Yeah, fine _now_. You just blacked out, Am! Don't you remember?"

I blinked stupidly. "Is it safe to say I have no idea what you're talking about…? And how did I get here, anyway?"

"I brought you here," A gruff voice was kind enough to answer.

I looked over at the source of the voice and found a very ruffled and perturbed-looking…Warren?

'Warren? What in the world…?'

Confusion and uncertainty flashed across my features.

Layla must've noticed for she elaborated helpfully, "What he _means_ is: _I found you unconscious in the gym and was worried, so I brought you here_. Isn't that right, Warren?"

Oh, Lord help us all. That mischievous glint was in her eye again.

If Warren was bothered by her remark, he didn't show it. All she got in immediate response was a shrug. Eh, good for her, I guess. She wouldn't do well to meddle with him. At least I don't think…

"I _meant_ exactly what I said," Warren evenly replied.

"Well, alright then," said Layla with a giggle. She then turned to me, "You really have no recollection of what happened?"

I shook my head in the negative, "No, not at all…"

Silence descended in the room at my response. It was then that I took notice of the other four persons present. One of them I recognized as Layla's 'boyfriend'. The other three…They were new to me.

Layla caught my gaze, "Oh, right! Guys, I'd like you to meet Amelie. Amelie, meet Will, Maj, Ethan, and Zach."

I responded cleverly with a quiet 'Hi' and a small, half-hearted wave. I received a 'Hiya' from Will, two 'Hi's' from Maj and Ethan, and one 'Hey there, hot stuff' from Zach. Warren's twitch at Zach's comment was barely noticeable, but I caught it.

My lips twisted into a wry smile.

Just then, an elderly nurse swept into the room. She power-walked over to my cot and hastily took action. When she was done checking my vitals, she pulled out a brightly wrapped orange lollipop from her uniform pocket.

"Lollipop?" she offered with a flourish.

I took it from her reluctantly, "…Thanks."

Her eyes sparkled benignly. "You're very welcome." She stood up again and exhaled, "So…Feeling any better, dear?"

As a reflex, I sat up on the cot. My hand immediately clutched at my head.

"Ah, _pain_…" I breathed.

The nurse rushed to my side, "Not so fast, deary! You're still recovering from a major fainting spell."

When the pain vanished and I was settled, the nurse turned to the other room occupants, "Does anyone know how this happened?" She gestured to my form on the cot.

Warren shifted from foot to foot, and my head lolled in his direction.

"Yeah, I know. Coach Boomer decided to _'sonic-boom'_ her into oblivion," he said, the slightest hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

The nurse gasped, "No!"

Warren just quirked his eyebrow.

"Tsk, tsk…Sensory overload, most likely," She muttered.

She continued mumbling as she made her leave. Something about 'Gym teachers and their masculinity'…

I blinked stupidly again. Nothing new.

"Who was that lady…?" I finally asked.

"Heh, she's Nurse Specs," Magenta said while gesturing to the door with her thumb. "She's somethin' else, ain't she?"

I nodded my head and laughed.

Whatever awkwardness that had been wrapped around the room previously had been lifted by my outburst. After the laughter had evanesced, everyone except Warren and me left the room on a lighter note. I titled my head skyward. Tell me this wasn't Layla's idea…

Warren's retreating footsteps brought me back to his presence.

Getting clumsily off of the cot, I whispered a quiet 'Thanks'.

Even though I got no response, the fault in his footsteps was enough to show me he'd heard.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

**vionette, Lita Lightning, Sasha, Coffee-And-Sugar, Movie-CaffineAddict, Crystal Moon Magic, lovetoread, **and** hotredhead **who reviewed chapter three.

Your reviews all mean a lot, just so you know. Thanks so much. And to answer your question, **Crystal Moon Magic**, little Sophie will be brought back into topic soon. Can't tell you anymore, else I ruin the story. Heh.


	5. Remembering Troubles

Extraordinary- **Chapter Five: **Remembering Troubles

**plummet: **Alright, the very beginning of this chapter (like, the first paragraph or two) is from the original story. Everything else…Well, it's straight off the press…! Er, sorta. Oh, and if any of you have suggestions or ideas, please feel free to let me know! Really, I'd greatly appreciate it.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything but my OC, yada yada….Yeah, I think you get it.

-

You know, you pray…

Somethin's gotta change

And mend this porcelain heart

Of mine…- **_Porcelain Heart:_** **Barlow Girl**

**-**

* * *

I swirled the food around on my tray absently, thinking about nothing in particular. The tray's contents were once edible (I'm sure), but I'd distorted them beyond all recognition in my undeniably pensive mood. 

My stomach growled, telling me it wanted food, but I paid it no mind. I had suddenly and irrevocably lost my appetite.

I glanced up tentatively at the kids in the cafeteria. They were all chattering away without a care…There are times I wish I could do that. And there are also times when I truly believe I can. But, like all good things, those notions fade relatively fast.

Situations as common as these bring out the simpler qualities of my personality; inexplicable desires for quiet being one of them. This silence I draw around myself is a defense mechanism, I'll freely admit. But no one has to know that but me…Right?

I was sitting by myself at the most secluded table in the lunchroom. Layla had asked me before to sit with everyone, but I'd politely declined. Thank goodness she didn't question why. I don't think I could've denied her a second time. And anyway, they didn't need me raining on their parade. Depression is contagious, dontcha know?

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw a dark form sit down in front of me. I turned my head apathetically in their direction. Oh, it was Warren. If I had been any other person, I'd have reacted much differently. But as empty as I was, I hastily went back to destroying my food…If doing so were still possible.

I felt his eyes follow my destructive utensil around my tray until, slightly flustered, I was forced to look over at him once again. Most of his face was shadowed by his dark hair, but, from what I could see…He was as withdrawn as I was, if not more so. I smiled at him without any emotion. He didn't return the gesture, as I knew he wouldn't. Fake facial expressions were beyond him.

"Dwelling on past actions doesn't do anyone good, you know," He voiced quietly, breaking the silence.

My wavering gaze locked steadily with his, "I know."

'Sophie…' I mentally sighed.

If only he knew what dam he had just broken…

Hanging my head, I grimaced in the sheer contempt I felt for myself. As I wallowed in self pity, he said nothing. He just…sat there in some unexpected mutual understanding. I don't think the silence could've been any more welcomed by me.

What was I to do? I'd left the orphanage on such a sour note…Should I go back? No, the Sisters would never allow it. What if I had a note sent? They couldn't deny me that…Could they? I didn't know. I would hope not. It was the only way I could even remotely stay in touch with Sophie.

My heart clenched. I hope I didn't hurt her too badly. Not to say I was the only person in her life. I mean, of course she had some friends…But, I'd like to think she loved me, at least as a friend if not as a sister.

My eyes watered. It put so much strain on my already fragile control to stop the tears from falling. The pieces of my dream had shattered, it was as clear as day. The only thing left for me to do was to pick up the pieces and start fresh.

In order to ignore the suffocating pain in my chest, my thoughts automatically switched to the day's brighter moments.

After I'd left the infirmary, Layla and the others led me to the main office where I was promptly handed my schedule. For some reason though, Warren had decided to go off to class on his own. Go figure.

Anyway, first on my schedule was A.P. Biology. I was late because of my time in the nurse's room. Joy. Now I had my own special entrance. But surprisingly, even though I hadn't known anyone at all…It didn't bother me. Actually, the remainder of class wasn't half bad. Mr. Medulla may have been a little stuffy at first, but his dry humor made up for it.

Then, from there I made my way to Advanced World Studies. Oh, how I _love_ history. I think the teacher's name was Ms. Peters or…something. Anyway, I have that class with Ethan and Zach. They're pretty cool…You know, once you get past their quirks.

I got hopelessly lost on the way to Trigonometry. Thank goodness I'd bumped into Will. Luckily, he was heading to the same class. The Trig. teacher Mr. Johnson was a little strict, but I guess a math teacher has to be with a class as uninterested and rowdy as that one. Yikes.

After period three, I had to switch from the main building containing the histories, maths and sciences to the English and Language building on the other side of the school. This was a project, let me tell you. Layla found me, though. Thank goodness. Really, if she hadn't, I'd have ended up in New York or something. Let's just say my directional skills amount to…well, they amount to practically nothing. Heh.

So, I ended up tagging along behind Layla and Magenta on the way to A.P. English, Room 215. Getting to English was a small victory, however, considering the room number contained my favorite number, _fifteen_. Why was it my favorite? …Long story short, I just think it's a cute number.

Yeah, anyhow, class was a blast with Maj and Layla. The seating order was on my side, big surprise there. Layla ended up in front of me with Maj to my left. The teacher, Mrs. Maxwell, was nice, which is just as well because I can't stand stereo-typically snotty English teachers.

Last class before lunch was…um…Oh, right! Mandarin Chinese 3. Now _that's_ an awesome class. Languages are up there with History in my book. I guess it was one of my last kindnesses from the Sisters, putting me in an advanced language class. They knew that I'd been studying the Chinese language adamantly for a good two years. Eh, thoughts of home didn't upset me as much as I anticipated them to, anyhow.

Well, I have that class with Warren (who doesn't sit anywhere near me), _thank you_ Mr. Wong and your seating chart. Not that I dislike Warren, which I don't. It's just…I really can't say. I don't think the feeling is mutual? Yeah, something along those lines…

A strong, chilly breeze blowing my hair into my face and mouth brought me back from my thoughts. I pushed the unruly tresses of hair behind my ears and inadvertently caught a glimpse of Warren.

'Huh? Why's he still here?' I thought stupidly.

And Warren decides to look up from his novel right about…_Now_. I smiled shyly at him and hastily picked up my tray.

I almost made it to the trash can in the corner, almost, but Warren decided to stop me with an unconcerned, "Where're you going?"

"Nowhere special," I replied smoothly. Yes, score one for Amelie!

I fought the sudden and idiotic urge to turn back around. Really, if he wanted me to stay, he'd say so. But, as I threw my tray out and walked outside onto the concourse…I wasn't so sure.

* * *

I was on my way to the chorus classroom when I bumped into him again, literally. Okay, it kind of went like this: My head was in the clouds (as usual), and I was paying little to no attention as to where my clumsy feet were treading. They just happened to lead me right smack into Warren Peace, the shock of it all causing me to drop my books onto the floor with a resounding thud. Saying I was embarrassed would be _huge_ understatement.

I bent down to pick up my books, collecting them hurriedly and tucking them under my arm. What I didn't notice was that Warren had knelt down to help me and, when I went to stand back up, we bumped heads. I, the graceful person that I am, fell flat on my butt, books landing in my lap. Warren, I could see through the haze of pain, just stood up and offered me his free hand.

I took it gratefully with a whispered 'thanks' and stood, brushing off nonexistent dirt from my jeans. When I looked up, he was already walking away. Well, if he didn't feel the need to apologize, then I shouldn't either! I was about to be on my merry way to chorus when my conscience guilt-tripped me. Alright, I should apologize.

"Hey, Warren!" I shouted down the hall.

His usual saunter turned into more of a slow walk. Good, he'd heard me.

I shouted again, "Sorry!"

His nonchalant salute conveyed to me that he couldn't care less. Well, at least he didn't ignore me. Shrugging it off, I pivoted on my heel and began (again) to make my way to period six.

I entered the chorus classroom, and immediately I was put in better spirits. The room, with all its bright colors, instruments and music pieces, was, I decided, my utmost favorite. The seating arrangement resembled more of a stadium, three rows across and roughly twelve columns of seats up and down three wide steps. I took a seat in the front row near the grand piano. There were only a couple of other students spread out in seats here and there. Well what d'you know, I arrived early.

As the students began to filter in, I zoned out. The cheeriness of the room could no longer suppress my thoughts. And so I wondered fruitlessly about what Sophie was doing at that very moment…

* * *

It was really nice outside, but I couldn't go out and play 'cause Sister Joyce said that no one was allowed to 'cause it was s'pposed to rain, and we'd get all muddy. I pouted and ran up to my bed, and now I won't come out. I'm angry at Sister Joyce for not letting me go outside. I like the rain. It's pretty. Big Sissy Amelie likes the rain. I miss Sissy Ammie. Everyone says she left me, but I don't believe them. She would never leave me. She loves me, and I love her. We're family. She was gonna make me her real sister, she told me. 'Cause she loved me, she said.

The rain plinking on the windows is nice, but it reminds me of Big Sissy. Angela and Tommy are coming over here. I don't like them very much. They make fun of my hair and call me 'Speckles' 'cause I have lots of freckles on my face. It hurts my feelings. Amelie used to stick up for me, but now she's not here, and they're mean to me again.

I don't know why they make fun of me so bad. I like my red hair. Ammie said it makes me special 'cause not a lot of kids have red hair.

"Ow, Angela your car is on my toe!" I yelled.

She gave me a mean look, and my eyes watered. I scrubbed them hard. I didn't wanna cry in front of them. Tommy pushed me and called me 'Carrot Top', and I ran all the way downstairs and hid in the coat closet. Angela and Tommy don't know I hide in here sometimes to cry. I don't like crying in front of the other kids 'cause they make fun of me more.

I hugged my knees. I miss Ammie. I wish she was here to make things all better…

* * *

"Ms. Bowen? Is there a Ms. Bowen here?"

I returned to reality, promptly wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

"Here!" I called, raising my free hand in the air.

The teacher, a kind-looking woman in her late forties, smiled politely at me and continued to take roll. No use thinking about Sophie now. I shook my head to clear it of enveloping thoughts. School is not the place for an emotional breakdown.

I took this time to search the room for a familiar face. None. Oh well. I guess I was just lucky with the other class periods. But then again, I always have more confidence when I'm singing around people I don't know, anyway. If they have no idea who you are, the more honest and open a person is about their constructive criticism. Well, that's how I've always viewed it. And at least everyone looked relatively friendly…Kind of.

"Hello class," the teacher said with a small wave of a bejeweled hand.

"Hello," the class echoed somewhat enthusiastically.

"Welcome new and old! I'm Mrs. Waters, and I'll be your chorus teacher for this school year."

So, her name was Mrs. Waters. How quaint. With her little introduction finished, she instructed one of the students near the music folders to pass them out, while she played a few scales on the piano for us. Once I'd received my folder with everyone else, we were told to open to find the song 'Only Hope'. The beginning chords were played, and I was immediately lost in the music.

* * *

As I strummed on one of the acoustic guitars in the music room, I found one of its strings to be out of tune and adjusted its according tuning peg. Not expecting me to even know how to hold a guitar (most likely), people were beginning to stare at me strangely. Honestly, I really didn't give a damn about them and what they thought of me.

I shrugged the guitar's strap over my shoulder and sat down on one of the far stools by the window, the least populated area of the room. Some people just don't know how to appreciate a good view of the rain.

Mr. Black told us all to get out our instruments while he went to the office…or something. Can't really say I was paying attention. Anyway, I already had a head start, having my guitar out already and all.

My fingers automatically began playing the scales, warming myself up a bit for whatever song I would play. Some time later, I was only half aware of the other students and their instruments, too immersed in my own thoughts and music to give them the time of day.

This is what I like: Being alone, alone with just the rain and the music…The best thing in the world for ya. It's one of the only things I can enjoy…Anymore, anyway.

A little upbeat ditty from my guitar, and I was reminded of the new girl, Amelie. I don't know why, but I've been seeing a lot of her today. Part of me is wondering whether or not it's really a coincidence. But, then again, she always looks so sincere. She's too open; she'd never be able to hide her intentions that well. Either that or she's a damn good actress, I'll give her that.

Ha, she looked ready to jump out of her skin when I ran into her in the hall before class. That was pretty funny. Call me heartless, but really, she was so flustered. Why waste all that energy on such a useless emotion? Being embarrassed doesn't change anything. Might as well just move on.

Although, she did have the guts to apologize, not like it mattered…A change in song and a new beat, and thoughts of the new girl faded out like the rain.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

**Kara Adar **and my dear friend** Amanda **for reviewing! You guys are great. And please don't forget, if you have any suggestions or requests, I'm all ears! …Or…eyes. Heh.


	6. Everyday, and Never Again

-1Extraordinary- **Chapter Six: **Everyday, and Never Again

**plummet**: I apologize for the delay of this chapter. I've been loaded down with school work for the past month and a half. Seriously, I swear that teachers only give work when they really have to. It's like they're lazy the entire second semester and don't do anything, and then they decide to cram everything they've neglected to do into the last semester. Ugh. Anyhow, I had gotten a request from a reviewer to post some kind of notification of P.O.V. change. I've taken it to heart and decided to do just that. Hope it's easier to read now.

-

_Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary **everyday** mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self. To be damned is for one's ordinary everyday mode of consciousness to be unremitting agonising preoccupation with self. _

…_-**Iris Murdoch (b. 1919)**_

* * *

I rolled over onto my side and hissed softly from the pain. Clenching at the stitch in my side, I stared blearily at the buttercup yellow walls of my bedroom. I have never, ever in my entire life exercised that much. My calves burnt from the lactic acid build up, and my joints were aching from the abuse they had recently been put through. 

Gym. Such an innocent, three-letter word. Pfft. They should call it something more sinister, something like 'E.T.Y.D' (exercise 'til you drop). Sounds kind of evil, doesn't it? It'd sure give us out-of-shape people some hint of what's to come, anyway.

I had gym last period of the day. All I can say is, good thing it wasn't immediately after lunch because I know for sure I would've seen more of what little I'd eaten than I'd ever wanted to.

No one I knew was in gym. I guess my luck had run out for last period, but I'm not complaining. It's not like I actually _wanted_ anyone I knew to see me sweating profusely and flailing my arms around like a deranged chicken with its head cut off, anyhow. Normally I would've been embarrassed, but then I was too busy trying not to _die_. What, not acquainted with my sarcastic side? Sarcasm, meet reader-person; reader-person, Sarcasm. Delighted, I'm sure.

Coach Boomer hadn't forgiven me for my incident this morning, and I couldn't really blame him. His grey sweatshirt was still pretty damp, after all. Not like I'm sympathizing with him or anything. As far as I'm concerned, he deserved it. I can't even begin to fathom all the crap he's given kids over the years. It's about time he got his just deserts, and it's just as well that it was from me.

"Ow…" I moaned pitifully as I accidentally bumped my thighs together.

Okay, maybe it would've been better if he'd been bent on killing someone else. My thighs could've been spared some pain, at least.

They only good thing I can say about E.T.Y.D is that there aren't any uniforms we're required to wear. Really, if anyone who had previously worn them sweated like I did…Ew. Gross, let's not think about that right now. Really good thing I remembered deodorant then, eh? Yeah, for the most part myunderarms smelt of 'raspberry rain'.

Cheery thoughts, cheery thoughts….Hmm…Alright, period 7 it is. Right after Chorus I moseyed on over to my next class, Art, which was conveniently right down the hall from the chorus classroom. I arrived early (big surprise there), and I immediately took back what I said about the chorus room being my favorite. The Art room, with it's magnificent bay windows overlooking the concourse now soaked from the rain, trees swaying with the storm breeze…It was welcome sight, not only because of its dark beauty, but mainly because, for once in my life, I wasn't the cause of it.

It was freeing, knowing that I at least had control over my emotions while everything else in my life was slowly unraveling itself. It empowered me, made me feel as if I could do more than just sit back and watch as everything fell apart. Not to say I had the slightest clue as to how I was doing it, though. Now that would be _too_ easy.

I had taken a seat near one of the windows and proceeded to stare absently out of it at a willow tree for the remainder of the class, my time spent there remembered as an indescribable blur of words, colors and feelings.

And then there was E.T.Y.D. You all know how that went. And now…Now there's me, lounging on my bed and thinking about…thinking about Sophie.

I sighed, deciding it was time I sat up and stretched out my aching muscles. Levering my body off the bed with an arm, I hobbled over to the desk in the far corner of my room, lowering myself slowly down onto its corresponding chair. I opened the top left drawer, fetching out some floral stationary and fountain pens that I'd discovered when browsing around the night before. I put the pen to the paper, and the words I had kept unbidden flowed out from me like an uncontainable liquid:

_Dear Sophie,_

_Hi, Hon. It's Big Sissy Ammie. How've you been? I haven't been too great, you know, 'cause I miss you so much. I'm really sorry for leaving you like this, babe. I left because I had to, not because I wanted to._

I barely held back tears at what I forced myself to write next.

_Don't worry, though. We'll see each other again. I promise. _

Tears fell treacherously onto the parchment and my fingers shook as I continued to write.

_When you learn how to write letters, I want you to write to me. You can tell me about everything. Nothing is every too silly. Before I go, I want you to know that I love you, sweetie. Don't ever forget that._

_Your Big Sister,_

_Ammie_

I quickly folded the letter, shoving it inside its matching envelope and sealing it in one fluid motion. My eyes had dried after I'd signed it at the bottom. I could no longer cry. The letter was ended and with it, my duty to Sophie. As much as it pained me to accept it, she was on her own now. The only thing I could down now was pray that the Sisters passed my letter on to her. Even if I couldn't write again, this letter would be enough. I hoped so, anyhow.

I gently stuck a stamp on the envelope corner after writing the forwarding and return addresses. Reverently, I placed the finished product in the front of my backpack to be delivered tomorrow. There was a mailbox on the street corner near my bus stop.

I was just about to stand up when Mrs. Ashcroft's voice carried upstairs,

"Amelie dear, dinner's ready!"

With one last look at my pack, I hobbled out of my room with as much dignity as I could muster. I would live on, for Sophie's sake…and mine.

* * *

_-Warren's P.O.V.-_

I slipped out my apartment key from my back pocket with practiced ease, sliding into the key hole and unlocking the door. I stepped inside and slipped off my shoes without a thought, kicking them unceremoniously to the side of the door mat. I eased my pack off my shoulder, got a firm grip on the strap, and carelessly tossed it onto the couch.

Like everyday, I had to fight the insane urge to shout, "I'm home!" into the empty apartment. My logical side knew the only answer I'd receive would be an echo and then, resounding silence…But my subconscious didn't. It still fruitlessly hoped I'd get a response. Fat chance that'd happen anytime in the next millennia.

So, like everyday, I instead said nothing, figuring that if I ignored the urge it would pass. And again like everyday, it did. It took a little longer today as I gazed at the signs of life in the living room: coats and shoes strewn about on the backs of the chairs and various spots on the floor, an old microwavable dinner tray on the coffee table, some half-empty cups stacked on top of the stereo speaker…All of them remnants of my mother's nighttime routine.

She had been working odd jobs ever since…Well, ever since my father had been put in jail. She had to, or so she said when I'd upped enough gusto to question her about it. And that was the end of that conversation. We don't talk much anymore now that he's gone. It'd torn her, his permanent absence, in more ways than I could ever count.

She didn't work because we needed the money. No, with the stuff in the bank plus the money I earn from my regular shifts in at the family restaurant, the Paper Lantern, we could've done just fine without her working more than her normal eight hours. But she needed to keep moving. This she didn't tell me. Like I said, we don't talk much. I had figured it out on my own by the scarce glimpses I caught of her in the early mornings. The ever-present dark circles under her once sparkling brown eyes, her now worn hands shaking as she drank her black coffee…She's always troubled, even in her sleep.

Yet it still remains a mystery as to why I'm friends with my dad's jailer's son. I guess it really wouldn't be fair if I'd held a grudge against Stronghold because of something his dad did, I see that now. But since when have I cared about fairness? Was it fair that my mother had to suffer the loss of a husband and her son, a father? No, it wasn't. Fairness could kiss my ass. And it's not like I'm that good of friends with Stronghold, anyway. Okay, Peace. Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night…

I strode into the kitchen, getting a soda out from the fridge and popping it open. Sitting down at the island, I took out a novel from the kitchen bookshelf, immersing myself in it for the time being. That's one thing my mom had still kept up, her collection of fiction novels. All the better to pass whatever spare time she had with, I guess. Not that I'm complaining. It benefited both parties, after all.

By the time I was on chapter five of whatever book I was reading (I hadn't cared to glance at the title), I'd finished my soda. Without looking up from the novel in my hand, I chucked the empty can over my shoulder and into the garbage. Perfect shot…Same deal everyday.

Did I ever need a life.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

**in THEgrid is where I live**, **Element Girls**, **horsebookworm**, **Kara Adar**, and **shadowphoenix101**, thank you all for reviewing chapter five. Well, those of you who wanted me to update…Here you go. And I have good news. The summer is coming up (duh), and I'll have no life for about a month when school lets out, so…I'll be writing. Lol. Any suggestions, comments, please leave them! Ttfn.


	7. Resigned to Fate

Extraordinary- **Chapter Seven: **Resigned to Fate

**plummet: **I know, I can't believe I've updated either! You know, I should be studying for final exams, but instead I decided to write the newest chapter of my fic 'cause I love you all so much. Lol. I got a review for a previous chapter pointing out a discontinuation I had completely overlooked, and I thank that person profusely for bringing it to my attention. Really, if there's anything I hate more than rotten eggs, it's making a substantial mistake in my writings. I hope I remedied it well enough to everyone's liking. Okay, I'll let you all read now! Hah.

**Disclaimer: **And, as I hope you all know, I don't own anything Sky High related; not the plot, the soundtrack or DVD (unfortunately), or Warren (haha). However, I do own anything you don't recognize, as in my OC and the plot of this story.

Oh, and I noticed I hadn't posted a **Disclaimer** (yes, again) for the previous chapter. Please, if anyone thinks I'm undermining their intelligence by posting one, let me know. Really, because if I was the writer of the Sky High movie plot, I'd be so rich I wouldn't need to write fan fiction! I'd just publish my own works! Lol. Yeah, you can all shoo to read the story now.

_Keep it inside  
The image portrayed  
As if I couldn't stand losing; as if I couldn't be saved, no way  
**A small confession; I think I'm starting to lose it**  
I think I'm drifting away from the people I really need_…- _**Still Frame; **Trapt_

* * *

After the first day of school, and as I knew it would, time seemed to fly by almost immeasurably fast, the school week ending much quicker than I had anticipated. I had fallen into a comfortable routine, you see (It's one of my more favorable qualities, being very flexible) and I was now capable of going through a school day without too many mishaps (I did manage to get lost a few more times). 

I had become much better friends with Layla, as I inevitably would, living in the same house as her and all. Her parents now seemed accustomed to my part in their everyday lives', for they no longer felt the need to always be overly happy, sometimes even opening a meal conversation with serious topics such as Global Warming and up-to-date discussions on the destruction of the rainforests. However, these were all very welcome changes in my life. I craved something bright in my now bleak horizon, as I'm ultimately more of an optimist by nature, and I would want something happy to cheer me up.

All good things, as I've come to realize, must come to end sooner or later, the sooner being the one in my case.

I still hadn't received a response from Sophie.

Of course, most people wouldn't find a problem with not receiving a response right off the bat from a six-year-old girl, but I'm not most people. I know for a fact that little Sophie, like me, always made an effort to be punctual, whether it be with her chores or assignments or even opinions, she was always on time for everything. It'd be just my luck that she'd decided not to write to me, or worse still, the Sisters had decided for her.

The class schedule they'd arranged for me must've really been their last kindness. I mean, who allows such a thing to go on? They know darn well how close we were…_are_! Sophie can't possibly know the true magnitude of my powers, she's just a little girl, for crying out loud! They're doing her more harm than they know, not letting her stay in touch with me…!

But then, I guess they're right in a sense. I mean, who would want to have an innocent child _tainted_ by me? She's only six, she'll move on; such logic they undoubtedly knew when they'd forced me out without even allowing a 'goodbye'. …They knew, knew they'd injure me far more than they would Sophie…They had to've known…There's no way they'd be that cruel to an innocent, I refuse to believe that. As long as they remain nuns, they will retain their holy titles in my eyes. They couldn't be the ones at fault...

Then, it must be me who's done something wrong.

No, not _done_; I **am **something wrong, something so vile and evil that it's hard for even the afflicted to comprehend. I am a mutant with some kind of warped DNA. According to my religion, 'I' shouldn't even exist!

But I refuse to believe that, too. I have to have a purpose, God _had_ to have a purpose for creating me. No, I'm mistaken. I _need _a purpose, else my entire view on life will be shattered into a million little pieces (more so than it already has, anyway).

Enough of that. Enough, enough, _enough_! I can't go on discussing this. Sophie will write back, and everything will resolve itself. Eventually. Yes, eventually…

The chains of the porch swing rattled slightly as I shot out of it to stretch my stiff limbs. As a titled my head to the side to flex my neck, the reddish light of the rising sun caught a strand of my hair, illuminating it to a fiery orange. I stared, transfixed on the color of it, completely disregarding my problems without even really trying.

It was, without question, well past midnight now as I stood out on the porch. Yes, I had begun to wake up at my usual time once again. The transition to the Ashcroft household had thrown off my nighttime ritual, my body not being used to sleeping in a foreign bed. I'd adapted like I did to all things, and after about three days or so, my die-hard habit was back on its track.

I pondered more on the present time and noticed that the crickets weren't chirping, and the fireflies had long ago retired to wherever they went to rest…As the sun rose ever higher, I figured it must've been around 3 o'clock; too early for the birds, yet late enough for the insects to be as quiet as they were.

'High time for me to meditate…' I thought apathetically to myself.

I considered going inside for a moment, but then the depressing lack of life in the Ashcrofts' dark house didn't really appeal to me at the time.Instead, I decided to stay out on the porch and watch the sunrise. Maybe the beginning of a new day would lighten my mood a little. One can only hope.

* * *

**-Layla's p.o.v…-**

I couldn't sleep any longer. I had gone up to bed much earlier than I would normally (a shocking eight o'clock!), and as I'd turned over in my bed fruitlessly for the fifth time in an hour, I decided to heed my body's message of 'You can get up now' and just go downstairs. It was a Saturday, anyway. No harm in that.

As I lounged carelessly on the bottom step of the staircase, I caught a glimpse of a person sitting outside on the porch. Not knowing who else would be up at this time and, I'll admit, a little scared of the possibilities, I got up shakily. I crept up to the door and opened it, but not before grabbing a rather threatening looking umbrella from the case to my right. I brandished it in front of my person as an attempt to ward off the stranger, when I discovered 'porch-person' wasn't so strange to me after all.

It was just Ammie.

I clutched at my frantically beating heart, feeling a little stupid now after finding out who it was. She didn't seem to notice, though. Questions popped into my mind then, as to why she was out here so early and what in the world was she doing…But something told me to hold them back. It seemed almost….wrong to break the silent recluse of the early morning, so I refrained from saying anything immediately.

Immediately being in a span of five minutes. I could never keep quiet for too long.

"G'morning, Ammsters! Did ya sleep well?"

She looked over at me with a slight smile, the kind of smile only deeply troubled people ever use. I knew something serious was going on with Amelie, but I would never ask her about that. If she wanted to talk, she'd talk. That's one thing I'd never do, push someone to talk to me. No matter how much it pained me to do so, I'd keep quiet in her case.

"Eh, well enough. How about you? Good, I hope?" she inquired politely.

'If I wasn't me, I would never suspect a thing,' I thought offhandedly. But in that thought's place, I responded with a noncommittal "Pretty good".

Am's lips twitched into another smile as I unceremoniously plopped myself down next to her, the both of us choosing to watch the birds hop back and forth between the trees and on the ground, some early riser's car zooming down the street every now and then.

Surprisingly, it was her who broke the companionable silence this time.

"So, did you plan on doing anything today?" she asked me with a little tilt of her head.

"You know," I said slyly, "I was planning on going to the mall with Maj and the guys later…D'you wanna come with?" It was my turn to tilt my head.

Her brows drew together, and she frowned in contemplation.

"Is Warren coming…?"

Oh, what an opportune moment to poke fun! I smirked playfully. I had her right where I wanted her…

"Why, Ams? Do you _liiiike_ him?"

* * *

**-Amelie's p.o.v…-**

Why! What in the world possessed me to ask such an idiotic question. I mean, it was out of nowhere! I hadn't even really spoken to Warren since the first day of school. We were barely even friends…!

Layla's cleverly aimed response rang in my head like the incessant buzzing of a bee. _Why, Ams? Do you liiiiike him? _

'Do I like him…?'

As I almost lapsed into a fantasy about his deep, soulful eyes and chiseled bod…Well alright, it's kind of hard to _dis_like him, even if he is kind of a stiff about a lot of things. But really _like_ him like him, as in, have a crush on him? No, not really…

Alright, alright, a _little_. Just a little, nothing more. Well, for now anyway.

I'm kind of pathetic, then, liking someone and knowing next to nothing about them. And who's to say that Warren would ever tell me anything about himself? He doesn't come across as the sharing type, that boy…

Yikes, Layla's looking at me strangely…Oh right, she asked me a question.

"Uh…no. I mean, as a friend, yes. Just not, er, in the way you're implying…"

Right, Am. Nice, really nice.

Even Layla had to raise her eyebrow at that one.

"Sure, Ams. Sure thing." She winked after this, of course, causing me to blush beat red. And as if I wasn't embarrassed enough, she decided to add, "Yeah, Warren'll be there, even if I have to drag him along against his will. And don't worry. I'm pretty sure he _likes_ you, too."

If possible, my face flushed an even darker shade of crimson. Opting to ignore what she'd said, I leapt up and literally sprinted inside, flinging myself onto the couch and attempting to bury my heated face in its cushions. Layla was quick to follow, much to my misfortune, as I heard the door open and close once again and light footsteps tread up to where I was lying on the couch.

Layla was still there, standing. I could feel her warm presence in the room with me. The seconds droned on into agonizing minutes, and still she didn't budge. Okay, my mortification was beginning to slowly ebb away, leaving annoyance in its wake…

"I'm not letting you back out now, Miss Bowen. The same thing goes for you as it does for Warren. I **will **get you both to come, whether it means knocking you out and sacking you, you're going."

I could practically _hear_ the smile in her voice as she sauntered out of the room and into the kitchen.

My hands dropped from my head in weary acceptance. Somehow, I wouldn't put it past her to do just what she'd said. Plus, there was no escape from this outing that wouldn't involve me fighting her off like a made woman, and right now I knew I wasn't up to that. I sat up and shrugged resignedly.

I guess this means I'm bound for the mall.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

**Element Girls**,** Xtreme Nuisance**,** Kara Adar**,** horsebookworm**, **Readerfreak10**, **in THEgrid is where i live**,** shadowphoenix101**,and** stevenstraitrawks **for reviewing chapter six. Really, thanks so much for all of your nice comments and helpful suggestions. I hope you all, and all the rest of the readers, enjoyed reading this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it! Heh. Any more comments, suggestions, please leave them! Ttfn.


	8. Hauntings

-1Extraordinary- **Chapter Eight: **Hauntings

**plummet: **'Ello, luvs. I'm back! Aha…haha…yeah. Really sorry it's been so long since my last update. I've been exhausted (and still kind of am) from my writing finals and the last minute essays we just 'absolutely had to complete' for English 9. But then, I _am_ only on the eighth chapter…and it's not really fair to those of you who were sorta awaiting this update…Okay, I know the first couple of chapters aren't that great, and I hope my writing's been progressing…So, with out further ado (aside from the disclaimer and the song excerpt), proceed to read…! Lols.

**Disclaimer: **(Do I really need one of these…? Ah well…) I don't own the characters or plot of _Sky High_, but anything you don't recognize, such as my OC and this story plot, strictly belong to me. El fin.

-

Hello again, why so old,  
Wasn't time your friend? I must be told  
Hello again, it seems so long  
Since we last met, how has it gone?

…Just say, "Hello again"…- _**Hello Again; **Lost Prophets_

-

* * *

'I cannot believe I'd ever be insane enough to actually _get in a car _with Layla in the driver's seat…' I thought somewhat cynically. 

It was a little more than an hour 'til lunchtime, and Layla was currently driving her sea-foam green buggy (with me in the backseat) to pick up Maj at her house on Coal Street. Now, Layla wasn't subconsciously playing favorites by having me sit in the back. Really, I'd volunteered (I was still a little sour about being forced into this little excursion). Oh I know I'm immature, but who wouldn't be? I mean, having someone you _knew_ you could take down threaten you with a guy you didn't even really like all that much and-

Haha. Riiight, Ammie.

"Hey Ammsters, you're not mad at me, are you?" Layla's wounded voice decided to cut off my rant.

She did sound a little hurt. Maybe it was because of my decision to remain childishly taciturn for an estimated, oh I don't know, five hours? I'd scoff at myself, really, I would if I could, but I can't, so I- Oh, the heck with it.

Che.

"No, not angry…Just a little nervous, ya know?" I lied through my teeth.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a downright lie. I _was_ nervous. So much so, in fact, that I almost dreaded when the car ride would end.

'And the car stops right about...now. Grand-diddly.'

We had pulled up into the driveway of a gray bi-level house. No porch, I noticed with dismay. Oh well. The nice landscaping made up for it.

"Alright, Maj's house!" Layla exclaimed happily.

So many mood swings, so little time. Anyway, that seemed to be Magenta's cue to open her front door and come outside.

Impeccable timing, I must say.

When she reached the buggy, she opened the front, side door and plopped herself onto the seat, her intricate up-do bouncing slightly. She took her time smoothing out her layered checkered skirt before greeting us with her usual, 'Yo, chickadees. Whaddup?'. Layla and I responded accordingly, her with a 'Hey, nuttin' much', and me with a 'Heyyah' and a shrug.

After Maj had buckled herself in, we were off again, backing carefully out of the driveway and onto the street. Layla tuned into some punk/rock radio station, much to Maj's delight. The radio host's raspy voice had just announced some song titled 'Hello Again' by the artist _Lost Prophets_. The guitar started its slow, tinny chord, and my brows furrowed in contemplation.

As the lead singer's voice drifted eerily throughout the car, a shiver crept its way down my spine.

Layla and Maj took no notice of my attitude shift. It wasn't their unawareness that bothered me, though. The lyrics…They gave me this ominous feeling…

_Just say "When" and you'll stop the pain  
Of your life, bring it to an end  
Just say "When", and you could make ammends  
Just say "Hello",  
Just say "Hello again"…_

I closed my eyes and willed the voices in my head to just _shut up_…

There, silence reigned supreme. I gave my head a small shake to expel the resurfacing memories. The end. No harm done.

"Hey Ams, you aiight?" Maj's voice rose over the radio.

I glanced up at Layla's bobbing head and smirked. "Yeah, no worries. Just a small headache."

"You want us to tune it down?" Maj had to yell this time. Her voice shook a little from banging her head in time with the beat.

"Nah, it's 'k. It's going away now!" I had to shout, too. But then again, I always had trouble hearing myself talk…

Maj didn't respond. She and Layla were too caught up in the chorus:

_"When", and you could stop the pain  
Just say "When", and you could make ammends  
Just say "Hello", Say "Hello Again"…_

"Hello again, hello again, hello again, hello again…" Maj and Layla sang in unison. "It's not the end, if you just say, 'Hello again'…"

My head hit the back of the leather seat, and the pulse in my head ceased along with the song. I couldn't think. My mind had forgotten how, and I would not remember this later.

Hopefully.

* * *

**-Warren's p.o.v.-**

I was lounging, bored, in my driver's seat for about twenty minutes now…Not that I was counting. I peered out through my dark shades at the occasional passerby. Blonde-haired, preppy girls…Giggling uncontrollably. I fought the urge to hurl and grimaced instead. Why was I here again? Oh right, the Sky High Saints had asked me to come…

Alright, so they weren't _that_ bad. They were probably the only people in the school that I wouldn't shut down immediately. And I guess…Yeah, they're my friends. Surprised? Me too. But anyway, I needed a new pair of Converse. As if to demonstrate that fact, I tapped my left shoe on the door and felt the seams flex a little _too_ freely. Yeah, they'd definitely seen better days.

My fingers had just begun to drum impatiently on the steering wheel when Layla's green Volkswagen Beetle pulled into the parking lot, Stronghold's silver BMW not far behind.

I slipped my shades off and into my jacket pocket, jumping out over the door of my jeep. I always preferred shortcuts. They made life so much easier.

Pulling out my keys, I locked the jeep and exhaled. I needed to prepare myself for the day. You have no idea how scarring malls can be. …Truth be told, I was loathe to all the stares I was sure to receive. Seriously, people act like they've never seen a punk/rocker before.

I slid my hands into the pockets of my tattered jeans and leant back on the hood of my jeep.

"Hey, Warren!" I heard Layla shout as she sauntered over to me. Maj and, to my surprise and somewhat annoyance, Amelie followed. The slight surprise faded out fast. The two girls were quick to make friends, after all. The annoyance remained, however, and a frowned tugged at the corner of my mouth.

After the BMW dispensed Stronghold and Co., I watched the events unfold. We walked as a group into the mall, me automatically taking the rear. I would always be a loner at heart, it seemed. Not that it bothered me much. And I was a year their senior, after all.

My eyes fell upon a head of strawberry-blonde, and finally, my annoyance evanesced. I noticed for the first time how weighted down her shoulder were, the emptiness in her kind smile. A new emotion came over me, one I couldn't for the life of me identify. It wasn't pity, of that I was sure. I tried to shake it off, but to no avail. It just…stuck.

As I ran a hand through my hair, I was able to ignore it. Good thing I was never one to over think.

* * *

**-Amelie's p.o.v.-**

I was still clueless as to why we invited the guys in the first place. I mean, what guy in their right mind would want to go shopping with three gals, anyway? My observation had proved itself true as soon as we walked through the mall entrance. Layla and Magenta had grabbed both my arms and drug me off to some clothing store, leaving the guys standing there somewhat flabbergasted and putout. Really, I'd be too if I were them.

Apparently, as I found out later, Layla had told Will beforehand something about us needing an hour of 'girl time' before we met up again, which would occur at the food court. And that left me where, exactly? In the store _Rave_ with two surefire shop-a-holics.

Oh joy.

"Hey Ams, How d'you like this top? Sassy, eh?" Maj asked as she sashayed out of a dressing room wearing a yellow, angled-cut tunic dress. She even twirled in it for emphasis.

"Hmm. I like the dress, just not the color. Yellow's not you," I replied honestly after some thought.

Layla popped her head out from behind a dressing room curtain. "Yeah, she's right, Maj. Yellow's a 'no'."

"Huh, I thought so," And back went Maj into her dressing room.

It was Layla's turn to come out next. She was modeling a sheer, blue tank and a medium length jean skirt with frayed fabric sewn rather haphazardly on the bottom.

"Whaddya think?" She questioned over her shoulder, posing with a hand on her hip.

"Ooh, I like, I like. Put that in your 'yes' pile," I decided, resting my chin on my fist in an almost pensive manner.

Layla smiled, turning on her heel and practically skipping back into her dressing room.

Our time spent in _Rave_ proceeded like this for awhile, Layla and Maj trying on random skirts, tops and dresses, until they decided on a couple of outfits. I acted as a kind of fashion critique. It was…fun, to say the least.

The two of them were standing in line at the counter, me browsing through some jeans on a rack, when Layla's question came:

"Hey Ammsters, aren't you going to try anything on?"

My eyebrows rose almost up into my hair. They expected me to…?

"Uh no, I didn't really think to. After all, I have no money," I turned one of my jean pockets inside out to further justify my point.

Layla's smile turned sinister. Oh no, what did I say?

"Hey Maj," She said as she lifted her bags off of the counter after checking out. The cashier had just begun to ring up Maj's items.

"Hey what?" Maj asked back curiously.

"Whaddya say," She paused here to look me up and down. "we take Miss Amelie to your favorite store?"

Maj's eyes lit up. "I'm game."

After her things were rung up, she did just that. She grabbed onto my arm, bags in hand, and began dragging me excitedly through the mall. I glanced over my shoulder at Layla behind us, and she flashed me a mischievous smile. What had I gotten myself into…?

The three of us were now practically running (two willingly, one not) towards our destination. We climbed onto an escalator, rather unceremoniously, I might add. I had almost tripped. The slow moving escalator was a change from the serious exercise we'd just been doing. I looked down over therailing and thought I'd spotted Warren and Zach in a shoe store. I blinked, and they were gone. Must've been imagining things…

Layla tapped my shoulder. "Watch your step."

I stepped off the escalator just in time. Phew. I didn't need to _really_ fall down. I glanced at the floor. Ouch. Granite would hurt.

I guess the ride on the escalator had calmed them some, 'cause now we were traveling at least at a normal pace. We hadn't gotten far, however, when Maj and Layla stopped in front of a dimly lit store titled _Hot Topic_. The walls were black, the floor was black, the clothes were mostly black…It was awesome.

A navy blue shirt with a fairy decal caught my eye. I scoured for it on the rack beneath the display shirt and found it in my size. I held it up against my chest in front of one of the mirrors. It'd look good on me. But then I sighed.

'If only I wasn't broke…' I thought wistfully.

I was about to put the shirt back when Maj stopped me. "Hey, whatcha got there, pally?"

"Eh, nothin' really."

"Oh _really_?" It was Layla's turn to join in. "Nothin', huh? Well, why don't you try that navy blue shirt on, then." She snatched the shirt out of my hand before I could put it back.

Alright, now I was confused. "Er, I already told you guys that I have no money. What's the point in trying it on?"

"Who said anything, my dear girl, about you buying it?" Layla held up her credit card between two fingers.

"No," I refused immediately. "No, you've been kind enough already. There's no way I'm letting you buy me clothes…"

"Too bad you have no say in what I chose to do with this card, little missy." She shoved me and the shirt into the dressing room in the back. "And you're not to come out until you have that shirt on!"

I made a face at the door. Too bad she couldn't see it. I had just slipped my shirt off and over my head when Maj's sly voice drifted into the dressing room.

"Oh, and Ams."

"Yeah…?" I responded timidly.

"Layla and I will be dressing you today."

Their insane laughter faded away as they undoubtedly went to plot my doom. I sighed. So much for fun. I pulled the fairy shirt over my head and turned to look at myself in the tri-fold mirrors. I smiled goofily. It _did _look good on me. It wasn't long at all (probably about ten seconds) when I heard Layla's voice drawing near. An unidentified, flying object came soaring over the top of the dressing room door, and, to my surprise, I actually caught it.

"Put that on before you come out," Layla commanded smilingly.

I held the clothing item out in front of myself. It was a skirt, of that I was sure. It was light blue with a triangular cut and a celestial design in a darker blue that nearly matched the shade of the shirt. I put it on grudgingly, but not before turning away from the mirrors. I never looked good in skirts. My excess lower-back kind of threw off my figure, if you know what I mean.

Despite my fears, I found myself opening the door of the dressing room. Layla and Maj squealed. Was it that bad…?

"Oh, my gosh…Maj, you and I are geniuses!" Layla was practically dancing in her happiness.

"Holy crap, yeah! Go look in the mirror, Ams!" Magenta exclaimed with equal excitement. She and Layla guided me to the mirror on the side wall.

I blinked. Then, a smile crept onto my face. I…I liked it. A lot. And maybe that was an understatement. The hot guy at the counter whistled, and I blushed madly.

Layla high-fived Maj. "You are so totally getting this outfit!" And back into the dressing room I went. I was like their life-size Barbie doll or something.

Forty-five minutes and five outfits later, the three of us stood in front of the checkout counter. Handing me my bags, the cashier winked teasingly at me. A light blush spread across my cheeks. I had just thanked Layla for what seemed like the one-hundredth time when Maj checked her cell to see when we'd have to meet the guys.

"Hey chickadees, it's quarter after noon," Maj announced gravely.

"Oh, pish-posh with the time. The guys can wait. This is _fashion_ we're talking about here!" Layla flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

I bit my lip to keep myself from giggling. Layla linked arms with Maj and I, our bags dangling between us, and we began walking in the general direction of the food court.

'How nice it is to have friends…' I thought offhandedly.

* * *

**-Warren's p.o.v.- **

The guys and I were waiting for the girls for about twenty minutes now. For some reason, they always seemed to have me waste exactly twenty minutes of my life waiting. It was irritating, to say the least. Oh well. I'd gotten my new Converse. They were nearly identical to my old ones, black with white rubber tips and a red star, except they had red laces. Hey, I never said I was exciting or anything.

Sure enough, not even a minute later, the girls came skipping up to our table near the center fountain. They had their arms linked and everything. I raised my eyebrow in question. Alright, when did this happen? Then, I sighed. Whatever.

"You're late," I said accusingly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"We know!" exclaimed Layla and Maj in unison. Amelie just smiled slightly.

"What? Did us guys take a backseat to fashion or something?" Zach asked with a half smile.

All three girls just giggled. For some reason I don't want explained…I found myself wanting to hear Amelie laugh again. Clear like a bell, her laughter. It rang in my head even after she quieted.

I got up then, choosing instead to put my hands in my jacket pockets. Having poetic thoughts at the mall just _disturbed _me.

"Alright," said Will with a hint of finality. "Who wants what?"

"I'm getting a salad," stated Layla. "Who wants to come with?"

"I'll come," said Maj. "I'm definitely up for some salad."

And they exited stage left. Two down, five to go.

"Well, I'd for one like to try the new taco place over there," Ethan jerked his thumb at a rather festive looking food stand near the back.

There were a couple echoes of 'Yeah, me too'. I wasn't one of them, however.

"I'm getting Burger King." And, with that, I walked away in the direction of said fast food place.

I heard light footsteps following me. I thought nothing of it at the time.

"I'll take a Jr. Whopper and an order of fries," I said gruffly.

"Anything to drink?" the woman behind the counter asked kindly.

"Uh yeah, a small Coke."

"That'll be $3.50."

I got out the amount I owed and paid her. After a couple seconds had passed, I began tapping my foot impatiently. Let's just patience was never one of my virtues.

"Here's your order, sir," said a male worker as he handed me my tray of food and drink.

I took it with a quiet 'thanks' and was about to walk away when I noticed Amelie standing next to me.

I gave her an odd look. "Wouldn't you rather try something more original than fast food?"

"I figured I'd play it safe," she stated simply with a small smile. She turned to the cashier, "I'd like an order of chicken nuggets and a small iced tea, please."

I don't know what compelled me to wait for her, but wait I did. I'd been doing a lot of that lately; waiting, watching. It was getting repetitive, but strangely…not annoying.

Amelie picked up her tray with a soft 'Thanks very much', and her and I began to look for everyone else: me to the left, her to the right. When we'd spotted them, my eye began to twitch. They hadn't been able to find a table big enough, and all of the other tables were already filled. The both of us, to my dismay, would have to eat standing up or find a bench of some kind to sit on.

Amelie was already on it, to my surprise, and I followed her silently to a table in the café across from the food court. We sat down simultaneously, and I started to unwrap my burger. We ate in silence, for the most part, except for the occasional comment here and there. I surely wasn't a conversationalist, and I guess neither was she.

As I sipped on my Coke, I took in my surroundings. The ceiling was a fair rendition of a summer sky, complete with white, fluffy clouds, a shining sun, and various birds. The walls were painted with rather detailed trees and grasses. It was…quaint, I guess you could say.

And having Amelie as a dining partner was, dare I say it, almost…nice.

I had nearly finished off my fries when I saw Amelie drop her drink out of my peripheral vision. Confused as to why such clumsiness would chose to come out now of all times, I faced her fully, only to watch the color drain out of her face. I followed her line of vision, and my eyes fell upon a dark-haired man in his late forties.

"Amelie, what…?"

I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence because she chose that time to faint, her body slumping back in her chair. I shoved back my chair with a screech and caught her limp form just before it hit the ground. It was then that the man she'd been staring at looked over at us. I gaped up at him from my spot on the floor, and suddenly everything clicked.

Violet eyes. He had violet eyes.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

Thank you **inTHEgrid is where i live**, **Readerfreak10**, **rootbeergirl19**, **Kara Adar**, **shadowphoenix101**, and **Element Girls **for reviewing Chapter 7. I apologize again for this chapter's lateness. I hope its length makes up for it! Heh. Any comments, suggestions, please leave them! Ttfn.


	9. Lost and Found

-1Extraordinary- **Chapter Nine: **Lost and Found

**plummet: **Hey, y'all. I'm really sorry for this substantial delay, but I encountered some severe uploading problems for about a _week_, and...Anyway, before I forget, I placed all thoughts in italics this chapter, just to test it out and whatnot. I kind of found my '…' way of thought to be very similar to the speaking one, if only a quotation off. I also figured the italics might separate it more and make it easier to read. In any case, here's chapter nine, and don't kill me if you hate the italics…

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything Sky High related, I'm sorry to say. El fin.

_It's only now when words are said_

_That break my heart in two_

_I wonder how you can endure_

_All I've said, all I say to you…- **A Moment Lost**; Enya_

* * *

My temples throbbed sharply as I began to regain consciousness. Escalating light and sound ebbed away at the artificial darkness behind my eyelids, and I rattled off an absent thought. 

_I don't remember falling asleep… _

My eyes blinked open, only to shut again on reflex as the harsh lights of my unknown location flooded in. It seemed my one thought had broken the dam, and more were able to escape through the cracks, such as, _Where am I, What happened, _and as more registered, _Was that really him…?_

I had an immediate answer to none of these questions, so I did what was instinctual and sat up. That was a bad thing to do, I soon found out. I had been sprawled underneath a metal table, you see, and colliding with metal doesn't do wonders for the noggin, despite what people might say…

"Ouch!" I yelped painfully, clutching at my injured head. I banged against the table bottom with my fist for good measure.

_Ha, now how do _you_ like it?_

I winced as I opened my eyes, fully taking in my surroundings. People were staring, and I glared at them through my pain, daring them silently to laugh at my predicament.

_What, never seen a girl hit her head before? _I thought acidly.

I shook off my senseless anger. It wouldn't do me any good to go bashing random people's heads in.

_Well alright, it would make me feel a _little_ better, but it's not at the top of my priority list right now._ _Right now, I need to figure out where I am…_

Something clicked in my head as I glanced at the menu advertising cappuccino flavors.

_Oh, the café! And the mall, of course! And…and…what else…?_

"Amelie?" A gruff voice brought me back down to the situation at hand.

I knew that voice. It was…I turned to the source of the inquiry and found just who I expected, Warren. The guy in question was assessing me for injuries at the moment, his brow creased only slightly in what appeared to be concern.

I shrugged off his light grip on my forearm, scooting out from under the table and standing up. My head spun only slightly, but I managed to stay upright by resting my weight on the tabletop. I had fainted before, and dealing with the aftermath was nothing new.

Warren stood up only a beat after I did, a question in his eyes. It took me but a second to place it.

_Why…?_

"I don't…" I began, but couldn't finish. A sudden urgency bubbled up inside of me, unable to be contained. My eyes frantically scanned the entire span of the café, feverishly darting over each occupant. I was determined more than ever to find _him_, the cause of all this, _everything_…!

But he was long gone, as I knew he would be, and with him went any plan of action I had previously conceived. My shoulders slumped in bitter defeat. I was bested again.

"Amelie, who was that?" Warren spoke again, this time with a demanding undertone, as if he expected a straight answer.

I shakily pulled out a chair and sat down, him doing the same in the seat across from me. I opened my mouth ever so slightly, prepared to spill my heart and soul out to him, a guy I barely knew (if I even knew him at all)…and found I couldn't. I turned my head dejectedly to the side, unable to make eye contact.

"No one," I whispered instead. "No one important."

* * *

_-Warren's p.o.v.-_

I'm pretty sure Amelie was the first person to get in a car with me without hesitating. Either she really wanted to make a quick exit, or she was just so exhausted that she couldn't care less how she got home. Either way, I didn't blame her. Her little fainting spell back at the café attracted a lot of unwanted attention. I'd wanna hightail it outta there, too.

I glanced at her through the corner of my eye as she put on her seatbelt. She was extremely pale, more so than usual. I looked her full in the face, and she gave me a weak smile as if to reassure me she was fine. I knew that was false right off the bat. For one, the whites of her eyes showed no blood vessels; they were completely clear. And second, her strength reserves had depleted to the point where she was barely able to keep her eyes _open, _let alone allow me to notice her exhibition of the symptoms. She was experiencing the aftereffects of a full body shutdown, no doubt.

However, she seemed to be handling herself well enough. It made me wonder if things like that happened often.

As I pulled out of the mall parking lot and onto the main highway, I grimaced at the feeling in my gut. Amelie's refusal to confide in me, I'm ashamed to admit, actually _hurt_. A lot more than it should have, anyway. We'd only just met less than a week ago…But, since when has time mattered? For once in my life, I was _concerned_ about someone. For once in my life, I felt…helpless.

I exhaled heavily. Maybe I should just explain how this came to be in the first place.

I waited for Amelie to collect herself at the café before taking her to meet up with everyone. The guys told me previously that they wanted to go over to the arcade after lunch and that they'd tell the girls, so I figured they would've already left.

Sure enough, when we arrived, I spotted Will and Zack playing each other in Mortal Combat, Ethan hovering near the console and giving the occasional comment on playing tactics. Amelie found Layla and Magenta playing that dancing game on the back wall. What's it called again? Dance Dance Resolution? …Whatever.

I watched Amelie converse with Layla a little as I rested against one of the pinball machines. I wasn't too fond of arcades. Not for any particular reason, but just because they were loud, bright, and full of button-happy kids. It's sad to say a few of those 'button-happy kids' are

people I consider my friends. Ah well. They kept things interesting.

Amelie and Layla glanced over at me a few times, Amelie shaking her head with a slight frown marring her features. I could almost imagine what they were saying:

"_Are you sure you're alright?"_

"_Layla, really, I'm fine."_

"_I could take you home if you want."_

"_No, no, you don't have to do that…"_

"_What about Warren? I'm sure he wouldn't mind." _

"_Warren?" a glance at me, "No, I couldn't do that to him. It's…fine. I'm fine."_

"_I'm going to go ask him."_

"_No, Layla! Really, it's-"_

And that's when Layla walked up to me and ruined my fun. Although, I didn't have a problem taking Amelie home, considering I'd already gotten what I came for. I told Layla as much, and that was that. Amelie and I left, end of story.

I turned left off the highway. I guessed it was as good a time as any to try a conversation.

"What's your address?"

Amelie looked over at me with an unsure expression, as if debating whether or not to tell me.

"124 Sparrow Boulevard," she answered finally, turning her head to watch the passing cars and successfully avoiding looking me in the eye.

I furrowed my brow. _Isn't that Layla's address? Are they living together or something? _

As if she could sense my thoughts, Amelie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

I shook my head. _It's probably none of my business, anyway._

"You alright now?" I asked to break the awkwardness, but it was a stupid question, considering I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I'm alright." And she actually seemed alright, smiling at me the way she was, but I knew better. I was all too familiar with the sadness in her eyes.

"We're here," I said stiffly. I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate it if I questioned her anymore than I already had. I know I wouldn't. And I was pulling into Layla's (and possibly Amelie's) driveway, so it's not like my response was illogical.

I frowned as a thought hit me.

_Man, am I weird around her or what?_

* * *

_-Amelie's p.o.v.-_

I shouted another 'Thanks for the ride' to Warren before turning around and shutting the door behind me. I walked somewhat slowly into the living room, only to find Mrs. Ashcroft sitting on the couch, immersed in a book.

"How was your shopping trip, dear?" She asked me without even looking up.

_I guess she heard me come in. _"It was a lot of fun," I managed to force out, holding up my many shopping bags as proof.

Mrs. Ashcroft smiled happily at me and placed her bookmark on the page she was reading. At the very least, I wasn't completely lying. I did have loads of fun until…lunchtime.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and unload my bags," I said hurriedly before she could squeeze in any other questions. I knew I was being rude as I darted up the stairs, but honestly…I didn't care at the moment. It was either that or have a breakdown in front of my new foster mom. Personally, I'd rather the former.

When I reached my bed, I collapsed on it in an undignified heap, shoving my purchases off to the side. So much had happened today, a portion of it unwanted, and I just wanted to **_sleep_**…I had begun to do just that, actually, when the phone rang. I covered my ears.

"_Why_…" I whined pathetically, curling into a ball in an attempt to ward off the shrill sound.

It stopped three rings later, although I wasn't certain because I could still I hear it echoing in my head.

"Amelie-dear, the phone's for you!" Mrs. Ashcroft's voice carried up the stairs.

"Alright, I got it, thanks!" I yelled back.

_Who would be calling me? I didn't give out my number to any of my friends, and no one besides the Sisters knows where I'm staying, so who…?_

I hadn't a clue, but I had half a mind to ignore the person waiting for me on the other line. Half a mind that wasn't controlling my ability to walk, mind you. I picked up the cordless phone on my nightstand and put it to my ear skeptically. What if this was a prank call or something?

"Hello?" I greeted tentatively.

"Hi, is this Amelie?" A man's voice questioned. It was a man on the phone with me, of that I was sure. The voice was too deep to be a woman's.

My brow furrowed in thought. _He sounds so familiar…but not familiar enough to place. _

"Yes, this is her," I replied more confidently than I felt. My heart rate had already begun to climb.

"Amelie? This is your father, Greg Bowen."

Black spots crept into my vision. I felt the beginnings of a faint coming on, but I fought them off without much effort. At first, I was completely void of all emotion. Apathetic, if you will. Then, all of a sudden, something inside me _snapped_.

How dare he…! After all this time, _after_ _everything he put me through_…!

"You-" I choked. "How _dare_ you. After all these years, you decide to contact me _now_? Why now, huh? _Why_?"

"Sweety, If you'd just-"

"Are you even aware of all that you've_ done_? No wait, scratch that. Of all that you've _caused_!" My voice turned incredulous. "And then here you are, calling me up like some long lost friend!" All the anger I'd carefully bottled up and stored away over the years burst out, and I greedily snatched the opportunity to give him his well overdue reality check. "She's dead, you know! _Dead_! All because of _you_! I lived in an orphanage for _fourteen_ _years_! For fourteen years I believed I was without a family! And now that I'm in a nice foster home and things are finally working out for me, you decide to call me up with some crap statement like 'This is your father, Greg Bowen'! What kind of a person-"

"Amelie, I-"

"No, you listen to me, and you listen _good_. You're no father to me. As far as I'm concerned, you died the day you left Mom and I. You're dead to me now, you got that? And unless you have a damn good reason for this sudden intervention in my life, you better crawl back into that little hole you've been in for fourteen years _because I don't want anything to do with you_."

I was panting now, out of breath from my rant. Acid burnt at the back of my throat. The other line was silent as I basked in the heat of my anger. I was just about to hang up when he decided to speak.

"I was afraid, alright? Afraid of you and what you were. You _frightened_ me."

My anger fled, and I was left cold and empty in its wake. Whatever I had been expecting, it most definitely wasn't _that_.

He took a deep breath, "Your mother had kept her secret from me. She never told me she was a…She never told me she had superpowers." He paused for a beat, and then continued. "I found out, though. When you were born, you…You showed signs of having superpowers. When you cried, it would storm something crazy…" He laughed hollowly. "So of course, she had to tell me to preserve my sanity."

There was some shuffling on the other line, and then his voice came again, "I tried to deal with knowing for three whole years, but then I just couldn't take it anymore so…I left." His voice turned bitter. "I packed my bags and left a three year-old child and her mother to live alone, regardless of the consequences...I knew when she died, you know. I practically _sat by_ when they took you to an orphanage. I went into hiding, you see, and no one really knew where I was…I don't think I even knew where I was, at the time…"

I shut my eyes tightly, attempting to block it all out. I didn't want to hear anymore, but I knew I had to, knew that I wouldn't ever be at peace with myself until I knew his full story. So, I smothered the urge to scream and forced myself to listen as he continued on.

"I was scared all this time…Scared of my very own daughter!" He was starting to become hysterical. "I used to believe, you know, that I was doing the right thing by neglecting my parental duty. I used to say to myself, 'Greg, they're _mutants_! They have _superpowers_! They aren't even supposed to exist!', and every time I would accept that as truth and…and go on with my life…"

By now I was crying, thick tears dripping down my face and pooling on the bedspread. If the sobbing sounds on his end were any indication, he was crying, too.

"Y-you were s-so small when I abandoned you, I r-r-realize that now. You were my daughter, and I s-should've g-given you the love you deserved. A-and your mother, too. You b-both deserved s-so much…s-s-so m-much…"

And then he broke down into hysterics, sobbing, sniffling, hiccupping…Despite the hatred I felt for this man, I pitied him. He really regretted what he did. And as the rain plinked against the window in sync with my tears, I almost found it in my heart to forgive him. Almost.

After awhile, the sobs lessened, and then finally stopped. He breathed in and out, trying to collect himself. I bit my lip against the words waiting to pour out. He still had more to say.

"Awhile back I decided I would try to find you," He began again. "Even if you had been adopted to some family in another state, I _would_ find you…And then, I saw you in the mall today, and everything just _hit_ me. The sorrow, the self-hatred, the pain, oh the _pain_...I'm so sorry I put you through all that. I can't apologize enough for what I did to you, you _and_ your mother. I know my apologies mean nothing, and you're still going to hate me, but…I'm sorry. I'm just..._so sorry_..."

I frowned, my eyes downcast. Hearing this man, my biological father, practically _prostrate_ himself over the phone wasn't as satisfying as I had played it out to be. It was heart wrenching, if it was anything at all. But my heart was frozen over and unfamiliar to mercy, and that was mostly his fault.

I wasn't done with him. Not yet.

"Is that it?" I questioned frigidly.

"Huh? What do you mean?" He sounded confused. How _cute_.

"You know very well what I mean," Acid dripped from every word that left my mouth. "Is that it? Are you finished?"

"Yes," He said quietly, accepting his fate. "Yes, I'm done talking."

"Good," I spat. "Good, because I'm done listening."

Then I slammed the phone down on the receiver.

* * *

**A special thanks to:**

Thank you **Destineyrose18**, **inTHEgrid is where i live**, **horsebookworm**, **Indigo Bluu**, **Rock'xanne**, **Readerfreak10**, **RIP MuM i love you so much**, **Element Girls**, **Lady** **Venya of the isle**, **shadowphoenix101**, **Sasha**, and **Heath **for reviewing Chapter 8. Really, I can't thank you all enough for your nice comments! And I think, if I'm not mistaken, that this chapter is one of the longer ones. Yay me! (Lol.) Anyway, I hope it read well for you! Ttfn.


	10. An Extraordinary Side Note

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**oob, An Extraordinary Side Note-**

**plummet:** Alright kiddies, don't go hatin' alright? I know I haven't updated in a month and a day; Ididn't forget about the people awaiting the newest installment...Although, I'm not so sure it's wanted now, considering the lengthy time period I left you all without so much as a notice. I apologize for that. I should have been more considerate, but you know, disregard does not come without consequence. If it counts for anything, this story has been weighing on my conscience since about three weeks after my last update.

I've been working on editing my story, changing a few things, details around, rewording some sentences to read better, and lastly, changing the thoughts from single quotes to italics. I'm hesitant to post, however...I'm not so sure I like me as a writer, or this story, for that matter. I might post, and then again I might not. It all depends. It's not so much that I'm heartless or whatever. Or stupid. I've checked my author stats and whatnot. I know there are people who have me on their alert list, and well, they wouldn't have put me on there if they didn't want to read the next chapter. That's just my common sense speaking, I dunno. Sometimes it leads me astray.

Anyway, not to be caustic or whatever, but I will say this. I've changed and am a bit more careless than before, so everything is riding basically on the response I get from this. If you hate it, hate me for delaying, hate the plot, hate my characters...review. I really don't mind flames as long as they're to the point and contain some constructive criticism. Oh, and if you have any positive responses you can leave them, too.

I'm not so sure if you'll be too keen to read any of my future fanfiction, either. Hah, not to be hypocritical or anything (you know, if you took into account what I said earlier about not liking myself as an author and are like 'Wtf, mate?'). Yeah, I was thinking about just starting a new fanfiction altogether, new category, writing style and everything. Writing is like an escape for me, and the fact that my fic is set in highschool is rather limiting and caging. I mean, I am in highschool, afterall. I have enough highschool drama to deal with outside of writing it. Yeah well, anyway, I've pretty much said everything on my mind.

Review, if you like. Oh, and thanks to all of my reviewers, new and old. I might not get to thank you properly if _Extraordinary_ goes uncontinued.

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	11. The Barbie Girls

Extraordinary- **Chapter Ten: **The Barbie Girls

**plummet: **Hey everyone. I decided to keep writing, thanks to the encouragement from y'all. I really needed that. I'm not going to promise greatness, but I'll write the best that I can. Heh, and I found a mistake of mine. I kind of forgot to mention the changes in this fic. So alright, there still are hero and sidekick classes (of course), but they only really count for P.E. and Sidekick Theory (both of which will be brought into the picture soon). So I'm gonna edit that in….Hehe alright, nothing much else to say, so…Continue on, please!

**Disclaimer: **This story is written strictly as a fan girl and is for pure enjoyment purposes only. I don't have any rights to the plot of Sky High, but I do to this fic! Ahaha, lol, small victory.

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_But in the end,_

_What leaves you broken_

_In the end_

_Makes you better,_

_Yeah…- **Better**; Plumb_

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* * *

_-Amelie-_

I sat, exhausted in all three counts, on the cool, metal stool in A.P. Bio. on Monday morning, my struggle to not fall through the floor the only thing keeping me awake and upright. My lab partner -a quiet, slip of a girl named Rosaline- was furtively scribbling down notes to Mr. Medulla's lecture on the complex matters of photosynthesis and its light and dark reactions. My pencil dangling loosely between my middle and forefinger, I wondered vaguely if I should be writing something down.

I sighed, my hands barely catching my head in time before it hit the table. I peeled my eyes open and glanced over at Rosaline's digital watch. 8:10…Only five minutes left to go…

I yawned, which I didn't consider that obnoxious, but Rosaline's indignant sniff told me otherwise. I mumbled a quiet apology, and it seemed to remedy the situation at least a little bit because instead of getting the lecture I knew she was keen on giving me, I only got a rather half-hearted glare. She went back to her note-taking for the remainder of class, leaving me to survive being tired in the quietest way possible.

_Bang_.

My head collided with the table.

The bell tolled, signaling the end of class and arousing me from my short slumber. Everyone else rushed out quickly in their anxiety, and my snail of a self was left in their dust. I blinked, my eyelids weighing a ton each and collected my pack before sliding off the seat. I was just about to make my exit when Mr. Medulla's voice pierced into my sleep-deprived brain.

"Oh, and Miss Bowen? A word, if you please."

I opened my eyes as wide as they would go so as not to appear rude. Too bad it served to make me look more stupid than anything else.

"Mr. Medulla…?" I asked, trying to give off the air of one politely confused.

"Yes," he bit off, sitting down on the stool in front of his desk. "I think," he continued rather condescendingly, "That it would be best to get some sleep at _home_ in the near future, if that's alright with you? Because, believe it or not, the **stuff **I ramble on about isn't just for my health. It will appear on a test in the near future, I assure you, and it would do you good to **_take notes_**."

I may not have been fully coherent, but I knew an admonishment when I heard one. I frowned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Medulla," I muttered wearily. "It won't happen again."

"Yes," he said again in a clipped tone, "Yes, you better make sure it doesn't." He turned away sharply and glided back behind his desk.

I breathed deeply. Apparently, that was my cue to leave.

_Time to drag myself to World Studies..._

* * *

_-Warren-_

Glowering, I readjusted my backpack strap after it'd slid down my shoulder for the umpteenth time that morning. You'd think my leather jacket would prevent sliding of any kind, but _no._ It was so worn out from all these years of use that it had no grip left whatsoever, forcing me to shrug up my pack strap every five minu-

"_Warren_…!" A shrill voice disrupted my rant.

I turned to the source, and there was a passing of about three seconds before my sour expression became even more prominent. She had long, silky blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a slim, curvaceous figure…Let's face it, ladies and gents; she was a walking, talking, _breathing_…Barbie doll.

Barbie turned to her friends, whispering in a voice she undoubtedly thought was quiet – although, I could hear every word, "Ah! Ohmygod, he's _looking_ at me…!" She then snapped back around as I walked closer, a smile painted on her heavily made-up face, "Warren. Hi. I wondering if you'd li-"

"No," I grunted, cutting her off quite nicely.

There was a day once a week, _every _week that a person in her little 'gaggle' would ask me out. Apparently, it was 'all for one and one for all'. My answers had yet to stray from 'No', 'Go away', and 'Flake off', but it seemed they were hard pressed to take a hint. Mostly I disregarded their existence, but my resistance was, undoubtedly, futile. They always came back for more, convincing themselves I was playing 'hard-to-get'. Oh don't get me wrong, I'm not that arrogant. I've heard them. It's hard not to when they follow you around like love-sick puppies. I swear they have one Barbie, Teresa or Kira stationed at every corner.

I rolled my eyes heavenward as Barbie mouthed the word 'progress' to one of the brunette Teresa's. I sighed, annoyed and tired. I could never win.

I made to move past them, but Barbie and a Skipper grabbed an arm each, the Skipper pouting in what she probably thought was a cute manner. It made me want to gag.

A Christie came up from behind – Caitlyn, the little girl in the room over from my apartment has a bit of a Barbie obsession, to put it lightly. I'd been sitting her on Saturday nights for awhile, so by now all of Barbie and her friends' names had been _engraved_ into my brain…

Yeah anyway, a Christie came up from behind me and put her hand on my shoulder. My fingers twitched, and I'm sure the rest of me didn't look too happy either because Skipper and Christie jumped back as if they were burnt. Barbie, however…

She just didn't _get_ it.

"Let go," I said, my voice dangerously low.

"You know…" She smiled coyly, _evilly_. "I don't think I will."

I heated up my arm just enough for it to be uncomfortably hot. Barbie yelped, cradling her injured hand with a frown. Unfortunately, by now I'd learnt that Barbies were indestructible.

"Now that wasn't very nice," she cooed revoltingly, hand resting suggestively on her hip and batting her eyelashes.

I breezed past her before she could get a hold of me again and headed off to Mandarin Chinese 3. She and her friends kept shouting my name, but I payed them no mind. I was now no longer even _near _an amicable mood.

* * *

_-Amelie-_

I had suffered through four periods now. Thankfully the only time I'd been completely out was in period one, and even then it was only for roughly five minutes. I'd even managed to write some notes last class! I gave a small smile. Things were looking up.

My gaze lingering in the general direction of the doorway, I caught Warren striding in out of my peripheral vision. He was looking surlier than usual, shoulders hunched, pack strap clutched with more force than needed. He sat down in his seat stiffly, dropping his book-laden backpack with a thud onto the floor.

_Hm. I wonder what idiot rattled his cage, _I thought sardonically.

Alright, so I was a little grumpy, but could you blame me? I hadn't slept in two days, afterall…

My smile evanesced into a grimace. I was grateful, now more than ever, for the time I'd spent learning to clear my mind. It was useful, and not just for keeping my emotions in check.

I took out my book and opened it mechanically to page 20 as Mr. Wong entered the classroom, my homework book-pressed from marking the page. I slid my pencil out from behind my ear and wrote my name neatly on the top of my homework paper.

There was a collective rustle of paper and a flicking of pages as Mr. Wong began his lesson. I scribbled down notes obediently, raising my hand now and then to answer a question.

My mind was blissfully blank and still so even as the bell rang for lunch. I gathered my things and made a smooth exit. I maneuvered myself through the bustle of students, touching everyone as minimally as possible. I had mastered the art of invisibility.

As I rounded the corner, a thin yet strong hand yanked me backwards into the now-empty hallway. Apparently, the 'invisible' part had yet to work for those actually _wanting_ to find me.

"Wha…?" I said confusedly. I was shoved back forcefully into the wall of lockers, one of the dials digging painfully into my lower back. A group of girls closed in on me, my captor in the lead. My eyes darted from one malicious smirking girl to the next. Was I missing something here…? "Um, what are you do-"

A slap from the blonde cut me off quite effectively. I promptly closed my mouth, jaw stinging.

"Don't you _dare_ speak to us, you little **_tramp_**," she hissed. There was an echo of 'Yeah, _tramp_' throughout the half circle of girls now surrounding me, the volatile blonde positioned outside of the formation and in front of me, hand still raised and pointing an accusatory finger at my face.

"I really don't under-"

"I **said** don't _talk_!

That very hand slapped me again, my head whipping out to the side. Anguished tears welled up in my eyes. I could do nothing to defend myself. My powers were next to useless in a closed off hallway.

"Are you ready to shut up now, slut, or do you want more...?" She let her question hang ominously in the air for a few seconds. When I didn't answer, she continued, "Alright, good, so you're not completely stupid." My jaw set angrily and she smirked, leg bent cockily out to the side. "Aw, did I upset-"

I took the opportunity to stomp down on one of her perfectly manicured, sandal-clad feet. She shrieked, jumping backward and breaking the tight circle. I made a mad dash for the opening and broke into a run. I had just about made it to freedom before I was detained, this time by my hair. I gave a small grunt of pain as I slammed into the lockers again, another of the dials reinforcing the previous bruise.

The semi-circle of girls closed in on me for a second time. I gulped. I was trapped and out of ideas.

The blonde smirked cruelly. "That's right, _hussy_. You've got nowhere to run."

* * *

_-Warren-_

I exited my period five classroom with a sigh, having just finished filling in Mr. Wong about my summer trip to Hong Kong, China (Mr. Wong was good friends with my aunt and mother; he was always interested in hearing what we'd been up to, including all of our family excursions).

I combed my fingers through my hair, more than a little peeved. He was a nice guy and all, but he just didn't get that I wasn't keen on 'socializing' (nor would I ever be).

I was about to turn the corner when movement further down the hall was brought to my attention. I peered over shoulder and narrowed my eyes at my discovery. Barbie and her crew were beating up on some kid. I altered my course, walking right up behind the gathering in nothing flat. The half circle of girls parted for me automatically, each one in turn glancing at the other nervously, no doubt wanting to warn their leader of my presence. The only one who was unaware of my disturbance was Barbie herself (no surprise there).

Barbie gave her victim another shove, hissing in a threatening tone, "You better stay away from him or else I'll-"

"Or else you'll _what_?" I interrupted darkly, towering over her 5'7" frame from behind.

Barbie spun around with a look of faux pleasant surprise, careful to shield the person behind her. "Oh nothing, nothing at all. Right, girls?" she asked with the utmost innocence, hands held behind her back.

Cue group echo. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. Outwardly I glared at her, issuing a challenge. Let's see how long she could last without flinching. One, two, thr- _flinch_. Huh, I was oddly disappointed.

Her smile was nervous now as I smirked down at her. She was quick to snap her fingers. "Alright girls, let's roll." And off she went, tail between her legs, cronies trailing behind her subserviently.

I rolled my eyes, this time for real. However, my annoyance vanished instantly when I noticed who was standing in Barbie's place.

"Amelie…?" I questioned, confused. Amelie held her ground rigidly, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.

"Thanks for that," she muttered quietly, humiliation lacing her tone of voice. When I made no attempt to move or respond, she flushed, the red handprint on her cheek becoming pointedly obvious. I took a step forward and reached a hand out as if to touch her face. She flinched visibly, and my arm fell limply to my side. "Alright," she whispered. "I'm gonna go now…"

She made to move around me, but I caught her arm.

"What did they do to you, Amelie?" I asked gruffly, feeling fierce protectiveness well up inside me.

"N-nothing at all. R-really, it's f-fine. D-don't…worry about it," she trailed off lamely, tugging weakly on my arm. "Please let go…"

I didn't want to comply, but I did anyway against my better judgment. Off she went, rounding the corner with her posture so drawn in and mortified I thought she would fall through the floor at any moment. I leant back against the lockers, exhaling heavily and blowing some hair out of my face.

_What have I gotten her into…?_

* * *

- 

Because I'm so grateful for all of the wonderful responses I got to my note, I think I'll write out replies this time!

**equinelover101:** -squee- A new reviewer! Thanks so much for your words of encouragement, and I'm glad you don't hate my story. I hope you liked this chapter!

**Sasha:** That's very true! No one likes the same things; people's opinions vary on all subjects. And creating your own fantasy world is a blast. Hehe. Hope you enjoyed chapter 10.

**Element Girls:** As of now, I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. -smiles-

**rootbeergirl19:** I'm not gonna say that my enthusiasm has been renewed, but I will say that I do think you're right. This story should have at least some definite ending.

**windsing:** Another new reviewer! I'm glad you don't think my story's a Mary Sue! I try really hard to keep it that way. Hehe, and no it wouldn't totally suck if I continued this story, so…Hope you liked chapter 10!

**Blue:** Heh, I've done worse than four months before, _trust me_. Lol, but it doesn't help to ease the guilt. Thanks for your understanding and your review. Don't worry though; I'll try my best to finish this!

_**Thanks to all my chapter 9 reviewers as well! **_

_**Readerfreak10**, **horsebookworm**, **Sasha**, **rootbeergirl10**, **shadowphoenix101**, **Element** **Girls**, and my dearest friend **Windswisdom**…_

You guys are great! …See ya next chapter!

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